


All to Action

by Tinytokki



Series: Treasure (The Pirate Chronicles of ATEEZ) [4]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: ATEEZ (Band) Are Pirates, Action/Adventure, Age of Sail, Alternate Universe - Age of Sail, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Angst, Battle, Death, Drama, Emotional Baggage, Explosions, Fate & Destiny, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Gunshot Wounds, Historical Inaccuracy, Humor, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pirates, Royalty, The Royal Navy, Treasure Hunting, Uneasy Allies, Violence, War, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:12:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 39,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24833629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinytokki/pseuds/Tinytokki
Summary: A month after being scattered to the four winds after that fateful day in Namhae, seven former pirates are struggling to find their places in a newly raging war. Aimless and leaderless, they’ll have to pick up their own shattered pieces before going anywhere.Will they make it home? And will there even be a home for them to return to?
Series: Treasure (The Pirate Chronicles of ATEEZ) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1341256
Comments: 44
Kudos: 47





	1. Beginning of the End

Gentle waves washed towards a coastal town and a small rowboat bobbed with the morning tide. The sun had only just begun to show its face above the eastern horizon, and it shone on Wooyoung’s back as he pulled into the docks in front of him.

The ship that had taken him this far south was anchored just behind and as he was graciously ferried inland, Wooyoung kept a hawklike watch on the coastline ahead of him.

This was the southernmost city before the border with Haemin, the enemy kingdom they were now at war with. It was risky to travel this far south, but Wooyoung had a feeling in his gut that he was close.

San had been here recently.

Wooyoung had followed him all the way down the coastline without catching up to him, and his mind warned that it was a silly feeling, this surety of his proximity to San.

Who was to say he hadn’t travelled far inland by now, hiding out in some generous old woman’s shack? 

It had been one month since they separated. He might even have a steady job and a house by now.

Wooyoung shook his head and focused on the town in front of him. Something was telling him San was close, and there weren’t any other leads to go on, so he listened.

He was hiking up a cobblestone road with his bag slung over his shoulder, scanning faces and searching the wanted signs plastered to walls and windows just like he did in every town.

It was conflicting to look at a row of drawings and recognise none of the faces. Wooyoung told himself it was a good thing none of the crew had been identified and hunted down, but at the same time he pleaded for a sign that they were alive and causing trouble.

“You there!” A voice in Wooyoung’s ear shook him out of his musings. “Looking for some action?”

A tall, burly man was smirking at him and invading his space a tad too much for Wooyoung’s liking. “No, I’m not,” he answered, backing away. He felt himself bump into another solid mass and whipped around. 

It was another man. He was surrounded.

“The Navy is always looking for sailors,” the second man sang, raising his eyebrows in expectation. “Ever been at sea?”

“Not interested,” Wooyoung shot back. They were a press gang, and that was the last thing he needed. “If you’ll excuse me...”

Before either man could respond, he sprinted past them and up the street.

Shouts broke out behind him and Wooyoung had no doubt they were chasing after him.

He had to appreciate the irony, that after all that time attempting to become a naval officer, all it took was a war breaking out for the men to press him into service against his will.

Hearing their angry huffs behind him, Wooyoung made a sharp turn into an alleyway to lose them. 

The houses were jumbled together and the screams of civilians threatened to give away his position, so Wooyoung ducked into a pub and sat down forcefully at a table off to the side, keeping his head down while the pair of men entered behind him.

“Nice try,” a voice cackled behind him.

Wooyoung whipped around to see none other than a naval officer sitting at the table where he’d landed himself.

“Wait—“

It was no use. The moment he stood up to escape, the other two were onto him. 

Wooyoung didn’t resist as a black bag was pulled over his head.

He heard the snickering of the captors and the ring of coins hitting the bar table. 

“Sorry for the mess,” the officer addressed the bartender before arms were restraining Wooyoung’s and he was being led outside.

He knew where they were taking him.

The Royal Navy.

...

“Hello there.”

Seonghwa opened his eyes to the familiar wooden bones of the ATEEZ. He was laying in the infirmary with a gunshot wound in his midsection and that was Hongjoong’s voice waking him up.

He was rubbing his arm gently enough that it didn’t hurt him but purposefully enough that it woke him. 

Seonghwa’s brows furrowed together.

“I brought you a book!” Hongjoong whispered, waving it in front of his face and flopping down in the chair by his bedside. “Getting shot is boring.”

This was a memory, then.

Seonghwa smiled his thanks and accepted it gratefully, just as he had the day it occurred.

“How are you feeling?” Hongjoong asked with a tilt of his head. “All the action on deck didn’t disturb you, I hope?”

Seonghwa shook his head and pointed to his bandages. “Actually, I think the wound is clean enough to stitch up.”

“Are you asking me to do it?” Hongjoong teased, already fetching the supplies.

He was, actually. 

Some part of him knew deep down that it was just a memory, but he clung to it while he was there.

Maybe he should have appreciated it more in the moment, but his thoughts had been on himself.

“Ew...” Hongjoong leaned away from the smell emanating from the wound after he unwrapped it and threaded his needle quickly. “Maybe I should have left this task to San.”

Seonghwa smacked him lightly on the arm as he theatrically pinched his nose before cracking the book open, eager for a distraction as Hongjoong’s needle pulled on his skin and threaded him back together.

“I still think I’ll send San in to change the bandages later. But do call someone if the pain becomes unmanageable,” Hongjoong ordered, sitting back once his job was finished.

That’s right. San comes in next while Hongjoong goes to decipher Eden’s map, and he confesses to shooting him...

“You’re no use to me dead, you know,” Hongjoong said with a smile. It was a bit of a jest between them, a line that Hongjoong had said when he’d first spared his life, when he’d taught him to defend himself, and now when Seonghwa had actually come close to being dead.

Seonghwa rolled his eyes, suppressing a chuckle. He didn’t want to disturb his newly sealed wound.

He wanted to throw his words back at him, but he couldn’t open his mouth and say them. They weren’t said in the moment, and the moment was long gone.

Hongjoong got up to leave, rinsing his hands off and returning the needle and thread to their homes, and Seonghwa wanted so badly to ask him to stay.

Or was he always doomed simply to relive the memories they had both existed in? And wish he had used his time more wisely, been kinder, acted firmer, learned faster, served better, held closer...

The list could go on forever.

Yet the moment Hongjoong closed the door behind him, Seonghwa was awake again, in a bedroom about three times larger than their room on the ATEEZ.

The sun hadn’t risen yet but Seonghwa knew it was about to. He slipped into a robe and went to open the thick full length curtains, suspicions confirmed. It was the time of the watch he normally took aboard the ATEEZ, and waking for it was a habit he couldn’t shake. Nor was it one he wanted to.

The capital city of Doljeon stirred into liveliness far beneath him and even after a month of living there it looked as foreign as ever. 

That month had been hectic in every way imaginable, yet to Seonghwa, it was all just buzz in a world he travelled as a stranger.

Junhee gave him what he deemed to be enough time to recover after the execution before he cupped his face one day and asked him if he would try his hardest to smile again.

The first time he attempted to run back to the square in Namhae, his bodyguard had caught him.

The second time he made it as far as the wreckage of the town hall and realised there was no way Hongjoong was still there.

Seonghwa insisted on seeing the body, on being allowed to bury him, but according to the Admiral he was already gibbeted and hung from the docks.

Seonghwa looked for him as they left on a royal ship back to the mainland to deal with the mountain of problems growing at the capital, leaning out over the railing with his heart in his throat, but it was high tide and only the top of the cage was visible.

Junhee’s grip on him was tight, preventing Seonghwa from jumping in the water to whatever end. He was the king now and he would need his brother by his side.

Seonghwa had sent a servant to the inn to find out what had become of Wooyoung, and the report returned that he had packed up and headed out. Seonghwa had no idea where to.

He was alone now, with no other foreseeable future than to follow the path set before him. The path back to Doljeon.

Seonghwa remembered the city, even this very palace. But the eyes he viewed it through had seen so much since those days, and he had no idea how to survive here.

Junhee saddled him with lesson upon lesson of princely manners, behaviour, knowledge, virtues, politics, even military strategy. He meant for him to be his aid in the war that had broken out so suddenly, and so far to Seonghwa it meant standing by his side and pretending he was happy, acting more than ever before.

He stood by Junhee’s side at the funeral of their father, a man Seonghwa hardly remembered. He stood by Junhee’s side as he was declared sovereign ruler and greeted by officials and aristocrats. He stood by Junhee’s side as he was married to the new queen, a relationship that took up more and more of his brother’s time and attention.

Today, he would stand by Junhee’s side as he met with the generals and admirals for updates from the warfront. It was his least favourite job because it put him face to face with Kim, that villainous murderer, the one person Seonghwa truly hated with every ounce of his being. 

Next week, Seonghwa would stand by himself at his own coronation, assuming it wasn’t postponed. According to the mandates, he wasn’t officially Crown Prince Seonghwa of Jaecho, strongest empire under the sun, until he had been coronated in accordance with the traditions, an event that had been put off for more important ones.

Junhee had given him a paper of acceptably rich and important candidates for the guest list, allowing him to select and invite them himself, but there was only one Seonghwa was looking for.

As he picked it up off the small table next to the window, he couldn’t help but notice the names of the entire flock of court ladies present, but even as he skimmed the list twice, he did not see the person he wanted to.

Yeosang.

“Your Highness?”

A knock and gentle voice at the door interrupted his thoughts. “I’ve brought breakfast, and the King requests your presence in the meeting hall as soon as you’re finished.”

It was one of the servants. Seonghwa had many of them now, and he tried to remember all their names and stories but he found it difficult to focus for more than a few minutes when someone was talking to him now.

Something always turned his thoughts to the sea, and the ghosts he left behind in her waters.

He accepted the ornately decorated tray with thanks and watched the blushing girl scurry out once he dismissed her, only to pick at his food while he watched the sunrise.

It made no difference how much of it he ate, he still had to go to the war meeting when he was summoned for it.

“ _He’s_ going to be there, isn’t he?” Seonghwa muttered rhetorically as he walked alongside Junhee to the main meeting hall.

“You know I can’t just banish him,” Junhee sighed tiredly, smiling at the concerned bodyguard who followed them. He’d been sighing a lot lately. “Admiral Kim is one of our best, and we need his naval strategies more than ever right now.”

Seonghwa glowered in the corner through the entire opening remarks once they were all situated. It wasn’t until Junhee cleared his throat that he remembered his image as the prince and tried to relax.

Easier said than done when Hongjoong’s murderer was the one laughing obnoxiously and making small talk over gourmet cuisine and weather changes right in front of him.

Seonghwa balled his hand into a fist and tried to breathe.

“Shall we begin?” Junhee broke into the men’s conversation and watched them order themselves and take their positions at the table. 

Again Seonghwa’s thoughts wander to Yeosang as the men move their little wooden ships around on the map and propose different strikes and missions.

He was probably trapped at home, cooped up like a prisoner at his father’s wishes. Seonghwa could hardly complain when he considered what Yeosang was facing.

But still his stomach turned at the confidence radiating from that monster Kim while he discussed his plan of attack.

When the meeting was over, Seonghwa needed a good long soak to distract himself. The servants went wild with scented bubbles, flower petals, even some distant music coming from somewhere, but Seonghwa didn’t care.

The moment his head leaned back, he closed his eyes.

It was so much better to just pretend all this had never happened.

...

Yeosang tapped his foot idly while he sat for his brand new portrait. He didn’t ask to be painted and he didn’t want to be here, but the artist was so focused on his work, he didn’t want to make it harder on him.

He tried to still his foot, but a few moments later it was at its tapping again.

That’s how it was being here. Trapped, like a caged animal, restless energy bouncing off every wall yet unable to go anywhere.

The young painter finally sat back to examine his work before turning the easel for Yeosang to see. It was an undisputed likeness, from his jawline to his hair to the tired look in his eyes.

Reluctantly, Yeosang nodded his approval and watched the artist place it on the wall next to an older painting.

There he was in that portrait of him and his father side-by-side that had been unveiled the day he left home. That boy, that young boy who rode from the estate determined to make the world a better place, was dead.

This Yeosang was all that remained.

A stone statue, watching and waiting until the day he was given his freedom.

“Gallivanting with pirates,” the Navigator had declared with a defeated chuckle when he finally got around to lecturing his son. “Is that what the children do nowadays?”

“Is that what Admiral Kim told you?” Yeosang muttered dryly. This could still play out to his advantage. 

“It doesn’t matter where the information came from. There is no excuse!” Father snapped, finally releasing his anger about the situation. “Si-Hyuk told me how you stole his maps. If you try to spin this as anything other than a complete and utter betrayal, you’ll find my forgiveness that much harder to earn.”

Yeosang ground his teeth together in frustration. He didn’t want forgiveness. He wanted freedom. His father was still going on.

“You have disrespected me. You have disrespected my house. Everything I worked for, everything I _trained you_ for. And for what?”

“I have the favour of the king!” Yeosang interjected. Surely that meant something? “You can’t keep me locked up here. His brother, the prince, will want to speak with me.”

“Then unless the king summons you,” his father bit back, eyes narrowing as he doled out what he believed to be fit punishment. “Here is exactly where you stay.”

So here he was. Sitting around doing nothing all day while his father corresponded with the Admirals and prepared for war.

It wasn’t just dull, it was anxiety-inducing. Where the others were and what had become of them was a complete mystery to him and all he could do was check the mail and gaze out his window for the rescue he had been promised.

“How do you like it, sir?” The artist asked, adjusting the painting to fit perfectly in the line of others.

“It’s very well done, thank you,” Yeosang complimented, sincere even though his voice was dry. “My father will be home shortly to discuss payment.”

The young man nodded and packed his equipment. “Is there anywhere in particular that I should stay to wait for him?”

Yeosang looked at him for a minute before gesturing to one of the sofas. This was an opportunity.

“Here is just fine. Tell me, what was your name again?”

The artist wasn’t here for a friendly visit with Yeosang, but he was showing more promise than any of the barely tolerable guests that came from outside.

“Oh, it’s Donghyun, sir...” the man answered haltingly, no doubt confused that a member of the aristocracy such as Yeosang was treating him like a human being. “My master is Kwangsuk, though I suspect he’ll be retiring soon.”

“Kwangsuk?” Yeosang recognised the name. “Kwangsuk painted this other portrait here.”

The one of him and his father. He tried not to look at it.

“He’s the greatest, isn’t he?” Donghyun sighed with admiration, finally at ease now that he had been asked about his passion. “I met him at the palace actually— well, it’s a long story.”

“The palace?” Yeosang sat on the sofa opposite the painter. “You’re from the capital?”

Donghyun nodded. “I grew up there, but Master’s residence is on Namhae, so that’s where I stay now unless I’m called for a commission.”

Yeosang’s heart stopped. “Namhae?” This was it, this was his chance for news. He’d heard nothing since his father had closed him off here, but perhaps after today he would be able to _do_ something.

“Yes,” Donghyun smiled and continued on cheerfully, “Have you been?”

“I—“ the words caught in his throat. “Yes, I was there about a month ago.”

Donghyun tutted and shook his head sadly. “It was a horrible shame, everything that happened there.”

Yeosang gripped the seat with white knuckled fists. “Tell me.”

...

Wooyoung could tell before they even pulled the bag off his head that he was aboard a Navy ship.

“Welcome aboard the Indeok,” the voice of his captor announced as he pulled the cloth away. “Finest ship in the King’s Navy, for she’s named after our beloved Queen Consort.”

Admiral Kim would probably have argued that his ship of the line, the Black Crow, was far superior, but thanks be to every deity that was out there that Wooyoung hadn’t ended up with that weasel of a man.

“You’ll be serving with the gun teams,” the man continued, pulling Wooyoung along after him. “That’s where we need the men.” 

The Indeok was a three masted, fully gunned, 32 gun frigate not suited for direct combat with a larger ship of the line, but Wooyoung’s guess was that she served as an escort or a scout ship.

An unlucky break, but better than being on a flagship.

There was a familiar, almost sentimental feeling building in Wooyoung as he was shown around, brought to his quarters, and left to his own devices.

It reminded him of Jongho’s tour through the ATEEZ, meeting the other officers, the whirlwind of a time he’d had serving just the first day alone. The way he had resisted them with all his might but had been brought into the fold and accepted into the pirate life. The life he never thought he would live. The life that had been taken from him, just like that.

There was a whisper at the back of his mind that he should simply accept what had happened and move on. The next ship, the next battle. Survive, like he always had. 

Things were always changing, and that was the very reason why it had taken him so long to get attached to the ATEEZ.

But he missed them, all of them. He knew what he wanted out of life now, and all the King’s Navy and all the enemy’s soldiers couldn’t keep him from finding it. From finding them.

“Come on, snots,” another officer barked down into the hold where Wooyoung sat with a dozen other conscripted men. 

“Time to meet your superior officers.”

...

Seonghwa’s smile was for the lords and ladies as he walked down the aisle gracefully toward the throne. It wasn’t for himself.

He was nervous enough that he thought he might lose his breakfast before the crown ever landed on his head but Junhee’s encouraging nod settled him long enough to get the next foot in front of him.

Seonghwa knelt before his brother, the king, just as they’d practiced before and felt the weight of the golden crown as it was pressed firmly on to him and his name was uttered for the world to know.

It was a relieved smile that he flashed for the audience this time when he stood and bowed for their applause, but the smile dropped when everything suddenly went silent.

The dazzling men and women became statues, even Junhee and his wife beside him froze and turned their heads to the doors.

“What is it?” Seonghwa whispered, stepping down from the dais and crossing the distance. No one answered him.

When he slid open the door, he was met with the reason.

A figure lay, bleeding out on the immaculate marble floor. It was Hongjoong.

“What is this?” Seonghwa choked, struck into stillness himself for a moment before rushing forward and gathering his captain in his arms. “What’s going on, how are you here?”

Hongjoong opened and focused his eyes slowly. They were missing a spark of life, and Seonghwa was horrified by them. “I tried to make it,” Hongjoong said so softly, Seonghwa wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination that he had said anything at all.

Through his tears, he watched Hongjoong’s shaking hand reach up toward his face.

He clamped it in his own to guide it to his cheek, and it was cold and dead, but Hongjoong wrenched it away and continued stretching it up, hesitating a moment before his fingers touched the crown that rested on Seonghwa’s hair.

Like magic, the band suddenly melted into liquid gold, running down Seonghwa’s face with the rest of his tears. His breaths came out quickly in a panic as he lifted his free hand to the sticky substance on his head.

When he looked back down at Hongjoong, it was too late. He was gone.

“No, wait...” he inhaled sharply and reached with shaking hands towards Hongjoong’s head, tilted back and lifeless. His hand had dropped to the side. “No, no, no, please don’t go!”

Hongjoong didn’t answer. And how could he? None of this was real, and if it was, it wasn’t any better than his previous reality.

The blood was literally on his hands.

“Please,” Seonghwa sobbed, crushing the dead body against his. It was pure guilt that was coursing through his veins now, his own shame keeping him alive long enough to fully regret his failure. “Please, I want to stay... I want to stay with the ATEEZ, with you. Don’t leave me...”

Everyone had left him.

“Don’t leave me...” Seonghwa whispered to himself before opening his eyes. He lay in the middle of the bath chambers, petals swirling around his shivering form and goose flesh covering his skin.

It was only a nightmare, but it might as well have been the truth.

He still had a week until his coronation, but after what he’d just seen it was almost better to run away from the golden crown completely.

Still, he needed Yeosang. 

So he called for the attendant girl, and tried to ignore how she blushed again even harder when she presented another finely crafted robe for him.

He had just enough time to dry off before a summoning came from the throne room. Good timing for once.

Junhee was slouched in his throne and all others were dismissed the moment Seonghwa entered and kneeled respectfully. A pit began to form in his stomach. This was suspicious.

“Let us speak plainly, as brothers, for once.”

Seonghwa stood and looked up hesitantly.

“You’ve been distant, Seonghwa.”

He swallowed and inclined his head to acknowledge it. Distant was putting it lightly.

“I understand your pain and I want to help you. I thought maybe to offer you company but you know how busy I am with affairs of state, so I decided instead it might be better for me to introduce you to some of the court ladies, and see if any strike your fancy.”

“Junhee—“

“Let me finish,” he chided, much too gently for a king, before going on. “I know how it feels to be paired with someone against your will, so I will not arrange your marriage. However, we are at war. If you consider it your duty to serve your kingdom, I hope you’ll consider choosing a wife from a neighbouring ally.”

“Junhee, with all due respect,” Seonghwa sighed. “I just want my friends back.”

Junhee sat back in his throne and pinched his nose. It wasn’t an outright refusal so Seonghwa took it as a sign to continue.

“In time, I’ll be ready for marriage, but right now I don’t even know if they’re alive—“

“Seonghwa, you came to me as the lost prince,” Junhee interrupted, his voice low and tired. “You used my power— used _me_ — to speak for your pirate captors. You’ve enjoyed the best comforts of the kingdom that I can provide, and I’ve asked for nothing but cooperation from you in return. Don’t ask me to raise the dead. It cannot be done.”

A tear hit the floor at Seonghwa’s feet. Junhee was right.

He had taken advantage of his brother’s love and given nothing back to him. Not even a smile when they were alone and there was no pressing speech to give or war meeting to attend.

Seonghwa did not deserve to be prince.

A hand on his shoulder lifted his gaze to see Junhee standing in front of him, smiling sadly.

“Marry when you’re ready to, Seonghwa. I just want you to be happy,” he sighed, searching his face before releasing him and leaving the room, his robes trailing behind him.

“Junhee, wait!”

The fabric swirled around as the king came to a stop, turning towards Seonghwa with a hopeful glint in his eye.

“There is one. One of my companions whom I believe is alive... if you would not object to finding him for me. I want him at my coronation.”

Junhee held his gaze a moment longer before nodding. “What is his name?”

“He’s the son of the Head Navigator,” Seonghwa told him, words rushing out excitedly. 

“His name is Yeosang. Kang Yeosang.”

...

“An execution, war breaking out, the prince’s return... and you were there for all of it?” Yeosang repeated as Donghyun nodded eagerly. He had a cup of tea now, served to him by a new maid Yeosang didn’t recognise while he told the story. 

“It was an action-packed week, let me tell you, Namhae is small and peaceful, not much happens there, and the whole town was just excited that the king— crown prince at the time— was coming to meet his betrothed,” Donghyun chattered on. “And then, what do you know but a midnight raid reveals a nest of pirates the very same night that the true second prince comes to see his brother. Then, news of the late king’s assassination and an invasion of Haemin soldiers in the middle of the execution is barely fought off by the royal guards themselves. And then, I had to pack up and travel to meet a client the next week. What a wild time.”

He sighed and leaned back in his seat, as if he was remembering the good old times and not some of Yeosang’s darkest days. It was all just a matter of perspective.

“Did you say the _middle_ of the execution?” He had to be sure of this detail. It seemed that somehow the sudden battle was part of Hongjoong’s mysterious plan, but unless it had actually saved his life... Yeosang couldn’t be sure.

“Well,” Donghyun laughed. “I wasn’t there personally in the square that day, so...”

“So you can’t be sure,” Yeosang finished for him quickly. “You don’t know if he’s dead or alive, the pirate.”

Donghyun didn’t notice his host’s strong distress and shrugged before taking a sip of his drink. “I think if he’d survived they probably would’ve had a second execution, don’t you?”

Yeosang stood and began walking toward the door. He didn’t want to break down here, not in front of this stranger.

Donghyun’s voice followed after him. “Sir...?”

Oh, of course. Yeosang had forgotten his manners. “I have matters to attend to, but Father will be here within the hour.” He stopped and threw one last comment over his shoulder.

“By the way it was hardly a pirate _nest_. Just a small band.”

Yeosang ignored the confused noise that followed him out and hurried to his room, locking himself in and collapsing on his bed.

He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes to hold the tears at bay, but it was no use.

Everything had gone to hell the moment he left Namhae, how could he have been naïve enough to hope differently?

As thankful as he was for news of the outside world, he wanted nothing more than to throw it back and slam the door. 

Even as he curled up and hid from his fears, he repeated in his head over and over, _He didn’t see for himself. He doesn’t know for sure._

Yeosang looked out the window and wondered about the future.

If he had been lonely before, he was truly alone now.

...

Wooyoung couldn’t breathe. 

All the other unwilling gunners trembled in their shoes as their rank was inspected, but Wooyoung was shaking for a completely different reason.

The man inspecting them was his brother, Wooyoung was sure of it. 

He had the same face, the same stupid hairdo, the same grating voice. The only thing that had changed was the addition of facial hair. It was Woosung, there was no doubt.

Wooyoung’s attention had been grabbed the moment one of the superior officers addressed him as Lieutenant Jung, and from there his suspicions had only grown until he stood, dumbstruck, in line with the rest of his new gun crew while the Lieutenant went down the line and asked for names and experience to assign them positions.

The man next to him was telling Woosung about his wife and children in an attempt to win pity and be set free, but Wooyoung gazed at his brother’s face and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

What an extraordinary turn of luck this was, good or bad.

“Name?” Woosung asked him, not even looking up from the paper he was recording everything on.

“Jung Wooyoung,” came the answer, and slowly Woosung lifted his head, mouth dropping open in utter shock. A small smile grew on Wooyoung’s face. It was like old times, him annoying his brother and his brother making that face at him.

“Lieutenant Jung?” A sharp voice cut the tension from the quarterdeck. “Is there a problem?”

“No sir,” Woosung responded swiftly before asking the next question. “Do you have any experience with cannons?”

Wooyoung hesitated. He was supposed to have been doomed to being a powder monkey for the rest of his life, and Woosung knew that. Should he tell him how he fired some of the most incredible shots ever made from a cannon as master gunner aboard the ATEEZ, or should be play it safe?

“Intimate experience,” he settled on. “I’ve loaded it, fired it, cleaned it, aimed it— you can trust me with the guns.”

“We’ll see,” Woosung snorted. He moved on with a meaningful stare that told Wooyoung he was due for a conversation about it later. 

Wooyoung watched him go with a chill in his spine, and not from the winter winds.

...

One after another they stabbed their swords into him. Over and over they killed him with their weapons and their words.

_It’s your fault. You let this happen._

“Please have mercy, San... Jongho, please don’t... Mingi, no!”

Seonghwa was mumbling to himself, half asleep on the carriage ride he was taking to an inn. The inn Yeosang would be at.

“I’m sorry, Yeosang, I tried—“ Seonghwa was muttering when his bodyguard shook him awake.

“We’ve arrived, Your Highness.”

Seonghwa allowed himself a moment while the jolt he had received faded away. “Yes, thank you,” he responded, voice hoarse and tired.

He didn’t sleep well anymore. Too many nightmares.

Before his eyes had even adjusted to the low light in the inn, a form had thrown itself into his arms.

“Yeosang?” Seonghwa gasped, pulling away to see his dear friend.

Yeosang nodded, looking tired himself and a little worn from the journey but so overjoyed to see him that it stretched Seonghwa’s own face into the smile he hadn’t shown in weeks.

If only Junhee was here to see him.

“I’ve never been happier to receive a letter in my life,” Yeosang insisted once they were seated in two very plush chairs separated by a grand fireplace. A large potted plant of some kind bent over and tickled Seonghwa’s neck from behind but it was a very nice lounge for an inn, especially compared to the one in Namhae.

The guards were seated one table over, watching like a bunch of hawks with frowns of disapproval directed at Yeosang for hugging the crown prince so publicly. 

“I’m just in disbelief that Junhee actually invited you,” Seonghwa laughed. “I’ve missed all of you so much, he thought I was going mad.”

“Going mad,” Yeosang snorted. “At least you aren’t literally locked up at home like I am. Until now, at least. Father said only a letter from the king could get me out and that’s exactly what came for me, against all odds.”

“I only wish I could’ve located the others,” Seonghwa sighed, sobering a bit and watching the flames dance in the fireplace. “Then this would truly be a joyful coronation.”

Yeosang shifted uncomfortably and took a deep breath. He had an issue to address and he couldn’t wait any longer.

“Seonghwa, I’ve heard rumours. I was hoping you could deny them.”

Seonghwa was quiet, his eyes fixed on one point like he was seeing a ghost. It made Yeosang’s stomach churn and his heart beat out of his chest.

“Seonghwa?” He whispered. “Please tell me they aren’t true.”

The other swallowed and finally looked at him. “Let’s go to the palace. I don’t want to talk about it here.”

Yeosang nodded and followed him into his carriage, feeling too fragile, like the last string was waiting to be snapped and a blade was about to fall on him.

The palace that was so famous and coveted throughout the nation was truly every bit as grand as the stories told. 

It was when Seonghwa dismissed all guards and servants from his chambers and shut the doors and windows tightly that he shakily spilled that what he knew was just what Yeosang had feared.

And it was up until the sun had set and frosty air whipped at the windows that they clung to each other and wept in the darkness.

Twilight stole over the wooded hills. Dark flapping specks traversed a silky white canopy of clouds. They were birds flying away, migrating further south to escape the deepening chill of winter.

Yeosang rode back to the inn alone with red eyes and lay in the borrowed bed with a heavy heart, but rested in the knowledge that Seonghwa had felt just as empty and alone as he had.

And at least they had each other now.

...

San knelt by a stream deep in enemy territory and splashed the water on his face. It was warm here in Haemin, and he had shed his jacket somewhere along the way.

His aimless drifting at sea had put him closer and closer to the path of Navy ships and their bloody battles. Not one of the ships he had seen was the ATEEZ, but he kept looking and he kept waiting. Someone was following him, and soon they would be far enough from the Navy to meet face to face without fear of arrest.

A stick snapped behind him and San’s head shot up like a deer’s. The rustling of a bush on the tree line indicated the presence of a watcher.

“Wooyoung?” He called out hesitantly. He wasn’t sure why, but he hoped that it was Wooyoung, and maybe if he hoped hard enough it would be. “Is that you?”

San stood and fully faced the dark line of the forest. It was very early morning, too early to see more than a few feet through the gathered mist.

He faced a dilemma. Pursue this stranger? Or return to his boat and continue south?

San was tired of running. The more he ran, the farther he felt he was from his friends. People that needed him.

He took another step towards the bush and parted his lips to call out again, when suddenly a hand shot out from behind and clamped over his mouth.

San could only struggle and let out a surprised scream that was immediately muffled before a fist came down on top of his head, knocking the daylights out of him.

As he crumpled to the ground and felt himself he dragged away, he sent out one last call to the mystic.

_Send someone to find me. You’ve kept me going this long._

...

Seonghwa walked down the aisle gracefully toward the throne. He had been here before in his dreams and the stiffness he couldn’t shake was the irrational terror that Hongjoong’s dead and crimson-soaked body would appear outside the doors and melt the crown off his head.

He had spent the entire day being prepared for his coronation. The many traditions and procedures that had to be observed kept him busy, and he didn’t get the chance to visit Yeosang again until now. He had wanted to tell him about the dream.

Yeosang was there in the crowd, looking every bit a breathtakingly handsome prince to rival Seonghwa. It calmed him to see him there, and it whispered to him that this wasn’t a dream.

If it was, at least it wasn’t one where Yeosang was attacking him.

He knelt before Junhee and listened to the official speech be given that he, Park Seonghwa, was officially crowned prince of the Glorious Realm of Jaecho and given all the power and authority that his brother the king could grant him. He was reminded, in a soft and personal tone of voice, that his duty was now first and foremost to his kingdom and that he must live out the rest of his days in service to it.

“Long live Prince Seonghwa!” Junhee declared, and the audience echoed back as the crown touched Seonghwa’s hair.

He held his breath and lifted his own hand to touch it, but it was firm. It was real. This was really happening.

Seonghwa rose and turned to bow to his subjects, smiling not for them but for Yeosang, who clapped and beamed back at him.

The festivities that followed lasted long into the night.

“What do you think of them?” Seonghwa whispered to Yeosang as they stood in the corner of the ballroom, nudging his head in the direction of the giggling court ladies. As crown prince he had filled his mandatory dance slots within the first hour and retired to converse with his honoured friend on the sidelines.

“They’re a dozen women with the same personality,” Yeosang chuckled. “I’ve seen their type before.”

Seonghwa nodded. “The peasant women and serving girls have more wit.”

His mind returned to some of the friends of his childhood. “Why did I ever want to do anything but run free through the fields like I used to?”

“Everything was simpler then,” Yeosang hummed, no doubt his thoughts were on his own past.

“It only feels that way now,” Seonghwa pointed out, draining his champagne glass and motioning a server to bring another. “The problems have piled up to an unbearable height.”

Palace champagne wasn’t like the rum he had enjoyed in his previous life, but it reminded him of that feeling enough that he couldn’t stop asking for more.

“Steady there, crown prince,” Yeosang teased. “We don’t want to embarrass ourselves on the first day of official prince-ship.”

Seonghwa shot him a dirty look but slowed his alcohol intake. It was a temporary fix, the champagne, Yeosang’s company, this entire party in all its colour and noise. It was a flimsy bandage to cover a gaping wound, but Seonghwa appreciated it more than he could express.

“Will you stay?” He suddenly asked Yeosang, eyes shining to reflect the candles that dotted the royal chandeliers. “At least until your father sends for you?”

Yeosang smiled that bittersweet smile and rested a hand on his shoulder. 

“It would be my pleasure.”

...

San awoke mid-coughing fit. The sway of the wooden floor beneath him betrayed his location. 

A ship.

There was a massive iron chain cuffing his ankle to the floor and it was immediately apparent that he had been taken prisoner, but it was too dark to tell by whom and if he was alone.

Morning light emanated from a tiny porthole, and San dragged himself over to it, praying that he hadn’t gone too far off course, that land would still be visible.

There was nothing but wide open ocean as far as the eye could see.

“No, no, no,” he whimpered and backed away slowly, reaching around him for anything he could use as a weapon. “This can’t be happening, not now...”

“You there!” A gruff voice with a strong foreign accent yelled close to his ear, scaring him. “Pipe down if you want to keep your tongue.”

He brandished a long, jagged knife and San slowly returned to his spot.

San was in very big trouble now. More trouble than he knew how to get out of. He had been captured as a prisoner of war. This wasn’t the Navy.

It was Haemin.


	2. War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was familiar to stand with the sand under his feet and the water lapping in front of him, wondering. But this time instead of wanting his memories back, Jongho wished he could just forget. Shove them into a bottle and watch them wash away. It would hurt less that way.

The footfalls of the cloaked figure slinking through the streets were as silent as the flurries of snow that drifted to the ground around him.

It was Jongho, scouting ahead in the night to ensure that the road was safe for their small wandering band.

He pulled his coat tighter around him and stopped in a narrow alleyway to observe the Navy outpost under construction across from him.

Jongho squinted through the flurries at the beach and saw what he needed to, heartbeat quickening with mingled excitement and dread.

A passing group of drunks forced him to retreat further into the shadows, and once he had surveyed the streets adequately, he went, shivering, back down the road.

By the time Jongho reached the old smithy standing solitary on a hill overlooking the sea, it was dawn, and the snowfall had picked up enough that his form was clouded by white and obscured from view by any unwanted followers.

The door opened for him quickly and a pair of hands pulled him inside. Jongho was thankful that a fire was already going in the massive stone fireplace, filling the space with warmth to welcome him back from his journey.

“What news?” Yunho asked eagerly as soon as he had thrown a blanket around the shivering youngest’s shoulders and guided him to a chair.

Mingi perked up from the table where he sat counting money as Jongho began to speak.

“At least a dozen men guard the coast,” he reported. “I saw soldiers in the streets. Not many, but still we must use caution. Their base is under construction, but it looks to be an expansion of an existing lighthouse.”

“Dongmin,” Mingi sighed, sitting back, remembering the lighthouse on the forbidden beach of his childhood. “But then, I suppose he had no choice.” He looked away and his eyes were full of memories.

The town they were heading to was Panhang, the very same village where Mingi and Hongjoong met, the one where Hongjoong grew up and Mingi spent his teen years. The very harbour the ATEEZ once set sail from was now guarded by soldiers preparing for war.

It was Mingi’s idea to head there in the first place, and his mixed reaction to the findings of Jongho’s investigation had the rest of his group frowning at each other.

“I really don’t think we should risk it, Mingi,” Yunho nudged him softly. “At least we know where Seonghwa is, it would be better to travel to the capital to see him, don’t you think?”

A proposal he had made many times over by now.

For the past month, the three of them had been hugging the coast and journeying north. Where they should have turned inland in the direction of Doljeon, the capital, Mingi had urged them upward, pushing them to his hometown, so they followed.

They all knew why.

The trio’s arrival at Namhae had brought devastating news. An execution, a coronation, and the dissolution of their fellowship.

Mingi held onto the suspicion that Hongjoong was alive, and for some reason, he thought he could find him here.

“I’m not done yet,” Jongho interrupted, clearing his throat. He eyed Mingi warily, loath to give him another potential proof for his fantasy, but told what he saw. “The ATEEZ was in the harbour.”

Mingi immediately got to his feet. “Then what are we waiting for? He’s probably there to lay low while the Navy presence isn’t excessive yet. I’m sure he’s been wondering where we were—”

“Mingi, there were eyewitnesses at Namhae,” Yunho pleaded, getting to his feet to cut him off before he ran into the snow with no coat. “I heard what they said, I saw the truth in their eyes.”

He choked on his own words and tried to meet eyes with Mingi. It hurt what he had to say but he couldn’t keep silent. “Hongjoong  _ isn’t _ going to be there.”

Mingi shoved him off and fell back into his chair. He was shaking with anger but said nothing, staring out the window intensely and watching the white specks gently meet the ground. 

Jongho blinked, his vision hazy. The three sat in a heavy silence until the atmosphere cleared. He had been waiting for something to snap.

They had stood in the square that was the scene of the crime and seen nothing, no one.

According to the locals, the execution had taken place, interrupted by a surprise attack on the princes and resulting in a bloody massacre in the streets. Seonghwa had reunited with his brother and travelled back to Doljeon. Those were the events everyone was talking about, along with the start of the war and the assassination of the king.

The location of everyone else was still a mystery to them, though Jongho wished to assume the other officers were with Seonghwa, too. It would soften the blow at least, to learn they weren’t dead or imprisoned somewhere.

Yunho had accepted the news the night they heard it. He locked himself in his room at the Jihada Inn, claiming he needed to be alone, but accepting Jongho’s hugs as they sat up past midnight together and tried to think of other things.

Mingi brooded silently and denied everything the islanders told him. He had been doing so ever since.

Jongho felt caught between them, stuck between wanting to hang onto the increasingly unlikely scenario that Hongjoong was alive and wanting to have the evidence in his hands, a confirmation of the truth, even if it was one he didn’t want to hear.

Truthfully, Jongho suspected that Mingi secretly did accept his death. This journey to Panhang felt born from a nostalgic yearning more than anything to him.

But he wanted them to be able to move on, for Mingi’s sake especially. Watching him drive himself into the ground with false hope and bitterness was painful. Jongho could hear him tell himself every morning that Hongjoong had done it once, he could do it again.

And it was true, death seemed to glance off him each time it went for the kill. But all things come to an end.

_ Hongjoong isn’t going to be there. _

“It begs the question,” Jongho finally said tentatively. “Who is?”

Yunho looked up from the fireplace and set his jaw. He already had a plan in motion.

“That’s what we’re going to find out.”

...

“Actually, I think the Smokey Island was fairly tame, looking back,” Yeosang chuckled around a bite of tender meat. 

“Well, that’s not very fair, Yeosang,” Seonghwa snorted. “You didn’t even go ashore.”

Yeosang smiled cheekily and refilled Seonghwa’s glass with wine. “Neither did you.”

Seonghwa conceded the point with a shrug. “I really wouldn’t mind sailing out and anchoring there for a day or two again. Except the kraken...”

Yeosang made a face that Seonghwa couldn’t help but chuckle at. “Don’t tell me you’re still angry over the existence of sea monsters,” the prince teased. “You’ve seen magical curses and demons since then, you know.”

“San didn’t have to shove it in my face,” Yeosang argued back weakly. “My father adamantly denied their existence, how could I be raised to think any different?”

“You’re different now,” Seonghwa’s laugh softened into a fond smile. 

“We both are,” Yeosang agreed after a pause of reflection.

Their lunch was interrupted by a knock at the door, a servant who Seonghwa allowed to enter. 

“A message from the King, Your Highness,” he informed them. “He wishes to remind you that you have a war meeting this afternoon.”

Seonghwa waited until the man had left with the empty dishes before groaning and falling back onto the floor. “I don’t want to go. That cockroach, Admiral Kim, will be there.”

Yeosang sighed in agreement and peered out of the embroidered curtains to check the weather. “It’s not for an hour or two, right? Let’s go into town, that’ll cheer you up.”

Seonghwa lifted his head from the floorboards and pouted at him. “But I might be recognised— the bodyguards will never allow it.”

“Who cares?” Yeosang scoffed, already collecting his coat and rummaging through Seonghwa’s wardrobe. “You’re a pirate, remember? Just sneak out in disguise.”

Seonghwa blinked at the force with which those words impacted him. It was true he was a pirate, unofficially of course... And there was no reason his prince status and pirate status could not coexist as long as he was quiet about it.

“I have extra scarves in that chest over there,” he called with a grin, getting to his feet and throwing on a fleece lined overcoat. “Let’s just be back by the meeting.”

...

San’s entire body was sore like it never had been before. Distantly he wondered which of his fellow ATEEZ officers had experienced this level of manual labour before saddening and dismissing the thought.

Every day was the same. Being forcefully awoken in a foreign language by a gruff man, put to work cleaning the ship inside and out, and slaving away at the cannons. From what he gathered, they were practicing for battle.

It became clear by the first night that he and the other prisoners of war were to be fighting for Haemin, a notion that frankly terrified him. 

This ship and the others San occasionally saw were nowhere near as big and powerful as the Navy vessels back home and his chances of survival decreased every mile closer to the battlefield he sailed.

And to top it all off, the amount of food in his belly was hardly sufficient.

San found himself ferociously chewing through a bit of hardtack in a hard-won moment of peace when the bell above decks started ringing in warning.

Men flooded out from the crevices and lower quarters of the ship and to their stations. 

San had only enough time to shove the rest of the food down his throat before he was being pulled to his feet shoved in the direction of the cannons.

They were ready for war.

...

The cheerful shouts and bustling avenues didn’t fill the space carved in Seonghwa over the past month, but they did remind him of something he had been missing.

The very essence of his childhood could be found in these streets, and some of that carefree feeling rubbed off on him as he stood in line with Yeosang at a market booth selling meat kebabs, bundled up against the cold and clutching some sticky buns from the last booth.

They strolled the streets with an eye on watch for the bodyguards who had surely noticed their absence by now, enjoying food and company. Even as Seonghwa’s stomach became full, his heart welcomed more freedom and the hours went by.

“Look, roasted chestnuts!” He gasped, pointing to what he knew was one of Yeosang’s favourite childhood winter treats and pulling him in the direction of the stall.

Yeosang stopped in the middle of the road and frowned.

The money which had been so forthcoming up until now was slipped back into Yeosang’s coat pocket with a wave of memories. “Hongjoong bought me roasted chestnuts one time,” he explained quietly, an embarrassed tinge of sadness to his voice as if he knew he was bringing down the mood but couldn’t help himself. “It was part of a bet we had over a drinking game, he owed me extra rum rations but I think he could tell I was missing home and threw the chestnuts in anyway.”

Seonghwa nodded because he remembered the incident distantly. They used to have plenty of cheerful times, even in the face of danger. For awhile it had been an adventure, even a quest, where lives were on the line but at least they had been together. At least they had each other.

“Let’s buy a bag,” Seonghwa suggested. “He would want us to.”

Yeosang cracked a knowing smile. “You’re just saying that because you want some.”

“And so do you,” Seonghwa laughed. “So, come on, open the wallet again.”

Yeosang chuckled and reached into his pocket, a quick movement suddenly catching his eye.

It was a boy who looked to be around the age of twelve or thirteen, stumbling through the streets and knocking into people as he went.

Yeosang recognised him. 

“Jungwan?”

The boy tripped over his own feet in surprise and crashed to the ground in front of them. Instinctively, Yeosang moved to protect Seonghwa but the boy had no ill intent, ushering apologies and bowing low before double taking and meeting eyes with Yeosang.

“Kang Yeosang?” 

“It’s me,” Yeosang confirmed quickly, looking over Jungwan’s shoulder to make sure he wasn’t followed. 

“We met on Si-Hyuk’s ship, he used to bring me my meals,” he explained for Seonghwa before turning back to Jungwan. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m running,” the boy panted. “There’s all kinds of talk among the powder monkeys, and I don’t want to be around when we get the order to go to war. Who’s this, by the way?” He stopped himself from explaining any further as Yeosang pulled Seonghwa back into the conversation.

“This is... you know what, actually...” Yeosang thought better of it and handed Seonghwa the wallet, muttering quietly so only the two of them could hear. 

“Seonghwa, why don’t you go buy those chestnuts and head back to the palace. I ought to take care of this and it may be awhile.”

“A-Awhile? How long?” Seonghwa stuttered. 

Yeosang sighed and shook his head at the sky. “A few hours, maybe days. I can’t let Si-Hyuk force them into a battle they have nothing to do with.”

“Why don’t you let me help?” Seonghwa pushed back, indicating the boy Jungwan who was failing miserably at pretending to distract himself. 

“You’ve already been out of the palace too long,” Yeosang sighed, and it sounded like he truly regretted it. “Your brother would never allow it. Don’t worry, I’ll write soon.”

Seonghwa frowned at the fact that his prince status was getting in the way again but took the money and tried not to think about it as he ordered his food in a husky voice. 

He knew it infuriated Admiral Kim to see him snacking casually during a war meeting so he made sure to enjoy the chestnuts while the loathsome man made another one of his speeches over the battlefield map. The hour was nigh and he had arrived at the palace in just enough time to make the meeting without being scolded. 

But already Seonghwa didn’t like the direction the conversation was heading.

“Privateers on the front lines?” He repeated, looking at all the dreary faces assembled around the table for confirmation. “Do we truly not have enough men to operate our own ships that we need to enlist the help of pirates?”

It explained why Si-Hyuk was preparing for war and the reason Yeosang needed to leave so suddenly. 

Junhee glared at him from the king’s seat, warning him not to speak out too abrasively and land them both in trouble.

“Unless we want this war to stretch on and cost in lives,” the Admiral responded coolly. “Yes.” 

And for the rest of the meeting, he left no room for argument.

Seonghwa curled his lip in disgust for the time being but waited until the two were on the way out of the hall to confront the Admiral’s hypocrisy.

Seonghwa wanted to sucker punch that man in the face, and that was just the start of the retribution he had planned for him.

Kim saw his approach and released a knowing snort.

“Still wallowing in grief?”

“Still disrespecting royalty?”

“My deepest apologies, Highness,” he gasped in that saccharine tone of his, kowtowing as was technically required of him.

Seonghwa cut straight to the point. He did not want to entertain this devil any longer than he had to. His presence alone made him want to vomit.

“So we’re hiring pirates now? Just a month ago you were hellbent on killing them, but I suppose that’s because they didn’t benefit you then, hmm? Now that making them into privateers can turn you a profit you’re willing to abandon your vendetta?”

“Now, Your Highness—”

“You know perfectly well who I’m referring to, Admiral. And you didn’t even just kill him, you tortured him. Along with two of his presumed companions who, may I remind you, were  _ not _ confirmed as pirates.”

“Torture? No, no that’s a complicated and unsavoury word,” Kim dismissed, already taking a step away from the conversation. “I much prefer teaching... training... even correction.”

“You’re a monster, not a man,” Seonghwa spat, pressing a finger into his chest. “Your actions were pure evil and I will see you pay for them.”

With that, he swept away and stormed back through the palace halls to his chambers.

The rest of the chestnuts lay uneaten on a desk while Seonghwa stewed over the fact that Yeosang had probably taken off to free his young friends from the oncoming battle and left him there in the palace, alone and useless again.

He knew he would go mad if he didn’t find a way out by morning.

...

Wooyoung was anxious and bored, a combination that did not go well together.

The Indeok had still not put to sea, waiting on direct orders from the capital where they were to go and whose fleet they were to accompany.

Wooyoung hoped it wasn’t Admiral Kim’s.

When the evening meal had been distributed and he sat at his bench mindlessly shovelling it into his mouth, the confrontation he had been anticipating finally arrived.

“Jung Wooyoung?” A familiar voice called. Wooyoung stood obediently, eyes twinkling at his brother who stood there, clenching and unclenching his hands in bewilderment. He looked disturbed.

“Yessir?” Wooyoung responded, expectant.

“Follow me. This way to the wardroom.”

Wooyoung scooped up his bowl and followed his brother through the hallways, ignoring the stares of his fellow sailors.

“Hyung—”

“Shh!” Woosung cut him off as they rounded the corner. He wanted to be completely sure they were alone and secure before allowing the required honourifics to be dropped.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes but shut the door tightly behind them when they reached their destination.

“What are you doing here?” Woosung hissed, raking his hands through his hair and giving him a look that was one part amazed and the other part frustrated.

“What does it look like?” Wooyoung sassed, still smiling devilishly as the brothers fell back into their old habits. “I got press ganged.”

“But I mean, where have you  _ been _ _?_ Last we heard from you, you were selling fish in a murky village somewhere and now you appear on the Indeok telling me you’re an expert on cannons, I mean,  _ really? _ Is this some kind of joke?”

His scoffing soured Wooyoung’s excitement for this meeting and put him on the defensive.

“Of course it isn’t,” he snapped back. “You think I  _ asked _ to be here? Trust me, there are other places I’d rather be.”

“No, but...” Woosung tried to put his hair back in its topknot effectively, preserving his perfect orderly appearance. “The naval officers refused to hire you for an apprenticeship back then, I never thought I’d see you here.”

“This is war, Woosung,” Wooyoung whined, settling into a seat at the table. “It doesn’t matter what they think.”

“I’m just surprised is all,” Woosung explained, softening his voice and sitting across from his brother. “I mean, what would Mother and Father say? They’d lose their minds.”

Wooyoung smirked at this and shrugged, nonchalant. “They  _ would _ lose their minds,” he agreed. “Especially judging from your reaction.”

Woosung snorted and waved the comment off, scanning his little brother’s face in bewilderment again.

“You’ve grown taller and stronger and— and your hair, what  _ is _ this?”

Dull blonde, almost more of a greyish lavender now. It was a little bit nostalgic and a little bit rebellious and altogether very different from what Woosung remembered him looking like.

Wooyoung ran a hand through it and reminisced. Freedom over their hair, length and colour both, had been important on the ATEEZ. It was part of what united them, and waking up with purple hair one morning as part of the fold was a memory Wooyoung wouldn’t trade for the world. 

“It’s much better than the Navy,” Wooyoung summarised, not in the mood to chronicle his experiences. “That I can tell you for sure.” 

“There’s something you should know,” Woosung said after a pause, chewing on his lip and second guessing himself. “It’s about Mother and Father.”

Wooyoung braced himself for the worst. 

“Since you left home, they’ve had another child.”

Suddenly Wooyoung could relax, but only for a moment of thankfulness that they were indeed alive and well before the news registered. Woosung went on.

“You have a little brother now.”

...

Jongho adjusted the strap of his bag nervously. The sun was setting over the trees and they were returning to the beach as a group of three this time.

Already he felt his expectations rising and forced himself to lower them.

Yes, that was the ATEEZ anchored on the horizon. No, that did not mean Hongjoong was there.

Yunho had run to steal a rowboat for them to sneak out to the ship under the cover of darkness, which left Mingi for Jongho to deal with.

Aside from the occasional anxious mumblings, he wasn’t actually all that difficult.

Jongho got a sense that he wanted to talk.

“Yunho and Hongjoong were close,” Mingi finally said as he paced the shallows. “How can he be so sure that he’s gone? How can he not want to look for him?”

“He’s just taking it differently than you are, Mingi,” Jongho answered gently. “You keep moving to find Hongjoong. Yunho keeps moving to distract himself. Dwelling on what happened... will probably hurt him even more.”

“And how are  _ you _ taking all this?” Mingi suddenly asked, bashful. “I’m sorry, I’ve been so absorbed, I feel like I haven’t spoken to you about it.”

Jongho didn’t know what to say. “I suppose I’m just... going day by day. I don’t know what’s become of any of us truly. Back when I had a clear purpose and goal, I tried to keep my distance but becoming a family was inevitable. And it feels like I’ve just lost a member of the family. I hate not knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt and I just— I just want answers.”

It was familiar to stand with the sand under his feet and the water lapping in front of him, wondering.

But this time instead of wanting his memories back, he wished he could just forget. Shove them into a bottle and watch them wash away. It would hurt less that way.

“What will you do if he’s not there?” Jongho asked quietly, eyes finding Mingi’s tear-filled ones as he gazed at that familiar sight that was the ship he’d seen grow like she was a child.

“I think... I think this is it for me,” he answered hoarsely. “I’ve come full circle. Unless they’ve moved elsewhere, I have a family in town who loves me and you two will always be welcome, but I-I don’t know where else to go from here.”

Jongho’s shoulders slumped. It sounded like the end of their trio was nigh, and he’d have to pick a side.

“So far I’ve followed my gut,” Mingi admitted. “If this fails, there’s nothing else I can give you.”

“You don’t have to give us anything,” Jongho whispered, holding Mingi by the shoulders until he looked at him reluctantly. “We’re alright with just you.”

Mingi nodded before looking over Jongho’s shoulder and perking up. “There’s Yunho.”

The ATEEZ was expertly hidden. She was only visible from the coast at a certain angle thanks to an outcropping arch that extended into the ocean, but Yunho was insistent in his rowing, and quietly but quickly the three reached the side of their beloved ship.

Needing no permission, they scaled the ridges in the side of the hull and silently crept onboard. 

Whoever was on watch in the crow’s nest was hardly suited for the job, because the three stealthily reached the Captain’s cabin with no interference.

Jongho peered in the windows, weapon drawn, and spied a familiar face.

“Yujin? Mingi, look, isn’t that Yujin?”

He could swear it was. His hair was longer and scruffier, and the bandana he usually wore was missing, but that was definitely the same Yujin they usually gave care of the ship to when all the officers joined a landing party.

Mingi squinted through the window at the pirate sleeping at Hongjoong’s desk before huffing and throwing the door open.

His motion startled Yujin, who instinctively fired a couple of rounds in the doorpost, missing Mingi’s head by a few inches.

“Your aim has worsened,” Mingi hummed disinterestedly before advancing on the wide-eyed pirate. “It’s been over a month since we last saw you. Care to explain what’s going on here?”

Yujin slid out of the seat and bowed apprehensively, hands raised placatingly under Mingi’s harsh glare.

“It’s a bit of a story!” He blurted, stumbling back over a couple of empty rum bottles.

Yunho rolled his eyes. “Squandering the funds are we?”

“Just my own share!” Yujin insisted, babbling his explanation. “We’ve been hiding out here just as we were told.”

“Told by whom?” Jongho snapped, checking the room once again despite having done so before. 

“Captain Hongjoong!”

Everyone stilled.

“Captain told me when he and the others disembarked at Namhae that at the first sniff of violence we should take her north and wait for him here.”

Mingi furrowed his brows in confusion. “He told you this? Why?”

“I still don’t take his full meaning but like as not it was to protect the gold and give him somewhere to retreat to, though I questioned it too at the time.”

Jongho repeated the words quietly. “The first sniff of violence...”

“Gunshots went off in town the first night we were anchored, so we packed up and sailed away as ordered.”

“Are you aware that a full blown war has escalated since?” Mingi grumbled.

Yujin blushed and scratched the back of his neck. “No, we’re not aware of basically anything out here. But Captain did mention seeing the edge of an enemy fleet while we were on the way to Namhae.”

Yujin continued quickly after a sharp intake of breath filled the room.

“He told me he needed to resolve the demon situation and reunite Seonghwa with his brother, and that fighting was likely to break out. I asked why he didn’t want us to fly a different flag and stay around for reinforcements but he said it would be bloody and wanted to risk as few lives as possible. Whatever went wrong with his plan— he didn’t anticipate it.”

A sombre sort of pause settled over the group.

“His plan went wrong, didn’t it?” Yujin asked quietly, turning to look at the empty chair in a whole new light.

“We weren’t there,” Yunho almost whispered, caught up in looking around the room as well. “But I think it did.”

...

“You aren’t serious.”

Wooyoung denied every explanation that came from his hyung’s mouth.

“I am serious, they had him five years ago— ”

“ _ Five? _ _”_ Wooyoung balked. “No. You’re joking with me.”

“I swear it’s not a joke,” Woosung insisted tiredly. 

“Why would they not tell me? And why did they even have him, to make the perfect naval officer because neither of us turned out well enough?”

Woosung looked affronted. “Wooyoung, don’t be like this, he’s a very sweet boy and he doesn’t even know you but he loves you. Don’t reject him because ofmother and father alone.”

Wooyoung slumped in his seat grumpily. He knew he was acting childish about it but something about the fact that they never even made an effort to let him know grated on his nerves sharply.

It was like he wasn’t part of the family anymore.

“Well, if I survive this war maybe he’ll get a chance to prove it.”

With that, he got up and left the wardroom. His brother clearly had nothing of substance to say and Wooyoung had other things to think about.

He had made a promise to himself. He needed to find San, and that wasn’t being accomplished here.

Woosung or no Woosung, he needed to escape.

...

The morning sunlight reflected off fresh mounds of snow and caught Seonghwa’s sleepy eyes.

A short letter from Yeosang came along with his breakfast tray, explaining that he was now travelling to the coast to rescue his old friends and would try to handle the issue quickly, promising to write before he returned.

Seonghwa trusted Yeosang but hated to be sidelined again. Few things annoyed him more than being told to remain still and twiddle his thumbs when he could be doing something. 

So he donned his thicker robes and his coat and ventured into the snowy garden. It was still technically on palace grounds, but it felt like he was somewhere else when he stood on the brightly painted red bridge and felt the icy wind on his face.

He peered into the frigid water, wondering if a koi fish or two might show itself and wishing he had come to the palace in spring instead to see the blossoms adorn all the garden trees.

Winter always felt like it lasted forever. This winter was one of bare trees and chapped lips, but also one of deep loss and grief that felt buried underneath the snowbanks.

The springtime wouldn’t fix Seonghwa’s melancholy, but the ocean might.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Seonghwa startled to see someone standing on the garden path a few paces away. A woman of short stature and elegant bearing, hair braided intricately and set around a golden crown.

The Queen Mother.

_ His _ mother. His real mother.

“Care for a cup of ginseng?” She held out two steaming cups of tea and tilted her head questioningly.

Seonghwa hadn’t seen the woman in person more than five times in his entire life, and why she chose to speak with him now was a mystery.

She seemed to sense his confusion and retreated into herself. He reached out and took a cup of tea, silently pressing her to continue.

“I’m sorry for being so distant. I have wronged you greatly and I know appearing now won’t repair any of that damage but you deserve to know...”

“Say what you must,” he acknowledged hesitantly. He wanted to hear her out, even though he knew he had already painted a picture in his mind of an uncaring woman incapable of noticing the absence of her own child. Already palace life had turned out differently than he had expected it to, and she was right, he did deserve an explanation.

“When you were born, I would have loved to raise you myself. Your father and I put you in Lina’s charge and she was supposed to be the best nurse we could have asked for. I know we hardly spent time with you but, you see, there are traditions—”

“Maybe those traditions should be changed,” Seonghwa grunted, sipping from his cup of tea when his mother stopped talking to sigh at him.

“I know they should, but there’s no changing the past,” she told him quietly, regretfully. “Some time after you would have been five, your brother insisted you had been replaced and, while I hardly know him any better than you, it was easy to dismiss his claims as a young child.”

Seonghwa nodded. It made sense. The woman hardly knew him, how would she be able to tell he had been switched.

“The boy that I was replaced with, my half brother— where is he now? What became of him?”

“Your father and I saw him at an event we all appeared at shortly after the switch and as I’m sure you know, he was deformed. We decided to keep him from the public eye but didn’t believe Junhee’s complaints that he was someone else entirely.”

Seonghwa shook his head wistfully, imagining how things could have been different at any point in the story.

“Jun disagreed with your father so strongly, it landed him in trouble. He took off to who knows where and lived undercover as a civilian for years. We were always afraid he would never return, until one day he agreed to be married and went to Namhae to meet his bride. Then as you know, he sent word that he had found you just before your father was killed in the attack. And he had proof. You can imagine how horrified we were.”

Seonghwa stayed his thoughts on his father for a moment. The king of Jaecho he’d considered a distant entity his entire life, killed just before Seonghwa could meet him in earnest. It was strange timing, and it set him to pondering whether the man would’ve been apologetic or not were he around today.

“Your half-brother took the opportunity to leave while you were on your way here,” his mother explained. “I think he wanted to for a long time, so he tracked down that woman Lina, the nurse who raised you. He goes by his real name now and for all the wrong we did... I wish him happiness. Just as I wish you happiness.”

“You doubted Junhee when he said he found me,” Seonghwa repeated dully.

His mother sighed and looked at the trickling stream, not answering. Seonghwa pressed on anyway.

“That’s why you delayed my coronation?”

“It’s only part of the reason,” she finally said. “I’ve been watching you in your time here. I don’t think you truly want this life in your heart.”

Seonghwa froze and stood up straight. That was quite observant for a woman who could barely call herself his mother.

“I’ve noticed you tend to seek out water, intentionally or unintentionally I don’t know,” she added quietly.

It was true. Baths, garden ponds, even the fountain he once played in. And now he could only look at it from the palace. 

If only he was small enough to lay on a floating lily pad, sailing lazily across the pond and gazing into the depths of his own magnificent sea. He could voyage across the stream back to that colourful wonderland.

“You want to be on the ocean,” the Queen Mother said knowingly. “You know your great great grandfather fought in the battle of Tae Gyungkaai himself. It was him who dealt the killing blow. I know you want to be on the sea.”

Seonghwa shook off his reverie. “And what if I do? I’m a prince, my duty is to the palace now.”

Mournfully, she cupped a cold hand on his face. “We’re at war, my son. Your duty is to the people.”

Her words struck a cord deep inside him and he shoved the empty cup back in her hands. “Excuse me, but I need to request an audience with Junhee.”

His duty was to the people. And the people were at war.

...

“I had a feeling you’d want to join the action,” Junhee sighed from his throne. 

Seonghwa was nervously standing before him, hoping he’d approve his request to join the Navy. It was something he never thought he’d go through with, but to Seonghwa it was the answer.

A potential channel to find the rest of the ATEEZ officers. And if that failed, at least he was on the sea again and serving his country.

“So then, you already know I’m up to date on nautical knowledge and have valuable experience,” he argued. 

“Well, yes—” Junhee started, only to be cut off again.

“And you’ve already considered the fact that I won’t back down from wanting this.”

Junhee chuckled nervously. “Actually, I’m not so sure about that.”

Seonghwa stopped, mouth open to fire another argument, and let the king go on.

“I know you hate Admiral Kim, but you’ll have to be on the Black Crow if you want to go.”

“His ship?” Seonghwa almost screeched. “Why? What difference does it make?”

“He’s the highest ranking officer,” Junhee explained calmly. “His ship is the biggest and most important.”

“Most important? Being bigger does not make his ship more important—”

“Seonghwa, it’s just how things are done!” Junhee retorted in annoyance. “Do you want to go or not?”

Seonghwa took a step back. Did he want to go that badly? 

Could he put up with the king of cockroaches himself to find his friends if they were out there on the seas, mixed up in this brewing battle?

“Fine.”

That’s how Seonghwa found himself waiting on a dock with two carriage loads of luggage being sent by longboat ahead of him while Admiral Kim panicked aboard the Black Crow, preparing for his arrival.

“I know you hate him,” Junhee sighed for the hundredth time since the beginning of this endeavour. “But please don’t do anything stupid.”

Seonghwa turned to him with pursed lips. “I’ll try.”

“And you be careful,” Junhee insisted, pulling him into a brief hug. “Come back to me safely.”

Seonghwa nodded into the hug and took his first deep breath of sea air in what felt like years. “I will.”

So he boarded his longboat and was rowed out to the Black Crow, resolving to be as much of a pain to Kim as possible.

Seonghwa was received onboard with the most extravagant welcome he had ever witnessed, before the Admiral was approaching him with that uncanny grin of his and bowing low.

He looked oddly nervous.

“Trust me Admiral, I have no more desire for this arrangement than you,” he assured him quickly, watching all of his trunks be carted off to the captain’s quarters.

“You’re giving me your room?” He was surprised for a moment before remembering it was technically required of him.

“Of course,” the Admiral chuckled. “I’ve set up shop in the wardroom and the officers will meet there. You have all the privacy you need, and I trust that’s where you’ll stay?”

Seonghwa frowned. “I reserve the right to go where I please. I know what I’m doing here.”

The Admiral rolled his eyes and Seonghwa knew it was going to be the bane of his existence trying to coexist with this man. “You reserve the right to go where you please _on deck_. Everything else falls under my jurisdiction, and as crown prince fully educated on our laws I’m sure you won’t misunderstand.”

His sarcasm was the final straw for Seonghwa before stalking away from the conversation and into the cabin.

The moment he entered, he caught his breath.

It reminded him of the room he and Hongjoong had shared, but with a lot less personality.

Sinking into the bed, he wondered if this was really a good idea after all.

There were too many reminders, and Kim’s hostile presence was already overwhelming. But one glance out the window and he knew why he was doing this.

He lay back and pictured his friends. They were out there somewhere and he was going to find them.

...

“When will he be ready?”

“He’s only recently gotten back on his feet, it’ll be another week yet, Admiral.”

“I want the Prince as far away from this as possible,” Kim ordered, moving the conversation into his newly sanctioned private quarters.

“Then the Prince will have to be kept away from the men, sir,” Byun coughed uncomfortably. “They’ve taken to calling the prisoner ‘Lucky’.”

“Lucky?”

Lieutenant Byun shrugged. “Lucky to be exempt from work... Lucky to have seen action... lucky to be alive.”

“Well,” the Admiral snorted, relaxing into his chair with a grunt. “I’ll be the lucky one when we put out to sea. No one on or off the Crow in the meantime, understood?”

“Aye, sir,” the Lieutenant said, bowing and exiting as ordered.

The task of keeping flame from fuse was paramount. The Black Crow was a powder keg, ready to blow at the hint of a spark.

But not if the Admiral had his say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey sorry this took so long! Hopefully it was worth the wait and hopefully the next one will be too. Leave all your comments/questions below or on my Twitter or both and have a nice day :)


	3. Welcome Aboard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fire blazed in Seonghwa’s eyes and he pressed the barrel right up to the man’s forehead. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you where you stand.”

“Unchain me.”

Lieutenant Byun’s head shot up from where it had been nodding off as his lucky prisoner’s request drew him back to alertness.

He scoffed at the boy’s bluntness and pulled his book up from where it had been sliding down his lap.

“No.”

“Won’t you let me go to the window?”

Now he sounded desperate.

“Not after the stunt you pulled,” Byun scolded, returning to his book but not really reading it.

Hongjoong had almost jumped overboard last week because his hands were small enough to slip out of the restraints. Not that he would’ve gotten far, considering the fact that his legs still didn’t work properly, but these new chains were much tighter, chafing his wrists until they bled and tiring him out with his attempts to escape them.

So he relaxed in his bonds and tried to lay back, resting in the rocking of the ship where it was anchored in the harbour.

Only an hour or two more and they’d be at sea, nowhere for him to run to.

A knock came at the door and the lieutenant dropped his book, peering through the keyhole to see who was calling before ushering three officers in.

One was Lieutenant Park, newly promoted and very excited to meet the rumoured Lucky himself. The other two were the stoic duo, Surgeon Oh and Steward Doh. Both undisputed professionals and the best in town at their respective duties.

“Did anyone see you?” Byun whispered, closing the door tightly behind them.

Lieutenant Park answered quickly, “Just two midshipmen. Both already sworn to secrecy.”

Byun relaxed and hovered in the background while the surgeon began his daily checkup of the prisoner.

Hongjoong was quiet throughout the process, shivering once at the touch of the surgeon’s hands before fixing his gaze on the tiny porthole opposite him and refusing eye contact with anyone.

It was taking a bit longer than usual.

“How is he?” Byun asked, mouth suddenly dry.

“Looking pale again,” the surgeon reported, waving his hand in the steward’s direction. “My surgical knife, if you please.”

All of them watched with baited breath as Surgeon Oh hiked up Hongjoong’s shirt and made a precise incision in his side.

Park and Byun moved to hold the patient down when he began to squirm and protest while the surgeon collected blood.

The smell of it pervaded the cabin and made Byun begin to grow nervous.

“Remind me not to let you tend to me if I’m ever injured,” Lieutenant Park jabbed at the surgeon with a smirk.

“Isn’t that too much blood?” Byun muttered. “He was haemorrhaging a few weeks ago with all that internal bleeding, I thought he needed to conserve his blood—”

“Will you two let him work?” The steward sighed, wiping off the knife as it was handed back to him.

“You said it didn’t matter if he was dead or alive,” the surgeon reminded Lieutenant Byun with a quirked eyebrow, stitching up the wound smoothly.

“Well,” Byun spluttered. “The Admiral has gotten used to the idea of him being alive. He’s not your experiment, don’t be careless.”

“If the  _ Admiral _ cares so much, you can tell him I’m only checking for infection,” the surgeon shot back, annoyed, before getting to his feet and carrying out his medical supplies. 

The steward and Lieutenant Park both followed him out, but hearing a groan from Hongjoong, Byun elected to stay.

“So you aren’t nursing me back to health just to kill me?” Hongjoong mumbled, a trace of sarcasm on his voice. He masked it well, but Byun could see him struggling to readjust his clothing without hurting himself.

“Well... no,” Byun answered, trying to sound distant from the whole thing. “But if the Admiral needs to kill you for whatever reason, he’s prepared to do so.”

Hongjoong’s eyes landed on the porthole again. The tiny patch of blue he could see was comforting to him.

“I always wanted to die at sea.”

He closed his eyes and wished he could go back in time.

At first Hongjoong had thought some sort of angel was descending upon him in his last moments. He could not have been more wrong.

The thankfulness that exuded him as he was hurried to safety and healed with expensive medicine decreased significantly when he discovered to whom he owed that gratitude.

It had been Lieutenant Byun, leaping into action when the square was invaded, and noticing the prisoner being impaled by the collapsed wooden structure on top of him. The stage he stood on was to be his downfall. Hongjoong had survived the noose but would likely not survive the battle.

Out of a strange and sudden pity, the Lieutenant scooped Hongjoong up and brought him to the Black Crow where it was anchored, handing him off to the surgeon and contriving an excuse before he faced backlash for it.

He decided to keep his regretful compassion a secret and presented the rescue in a light Admiral Kim would understand- a lucrative opportunity.

This was the most acclaimed pirate of the past decade, surely his skills would be very useful in winning the Admiral praise and war hero status. If not, they could always execute him again.

Though the second option was presented humbly as a last resort, seeing as how Byun wasn’t sure he could let Hongjoong die now.

There was something about saving a life that suddenly put the responsibility in one’s hands. Now Hongjoong was indebted to him, and Byun had to face the consequences of his own spur-of-the-moment actions.

He agreed out of respect for his superior to Kim’s single condition— that the entire turn of events be kept secret from the men. No one was to know what he had done. The stranger in the depths of the Crow was just an injured soldier. The Pirate King was dead.

Otherwise they might be facing uprisings and mutinies and, well, Kim’s bid for fame depended on privateers to do the work for him.

It was jarring, flogging a pirate within an inch of his life one day and holding a rag to his bleeding wounds the next, but Lieutenant Byun was a man of honour, even if his profession didn’t create much space for personal discernment.

Again, the door opened and Steward Doh entered, this time with a bowl of soup to feed the prisoner once he had helped him into a sitting position. 

Byun stood awkwardly in the corner while Hongjoong chatted with the steward. The former had become quite familiar with the officers of the Crow and it made Byun uncomfortable how easily he got under everyone’s skin. How much earlier would he have been moved to save the boy’s life if he’d been given the opportunity to charm them back on Namhae?

“What’s in here, exactly?” Hongjoong asked, mouth still full of bread.

“Oh, I’m not sure you would recognise all the ingredients,” the steward let him down gently. “They’re quite expensive.”

Hongjoong laughed so suddenly he almost choked on his soup. “Mr. Doh, I haven’t always been a pirate. Try me.”

“Well, the meats are blue crab, prawns, clams, mussels, scallops, monkfish and octopus...” here the steward poked at a protruding tentacle. “And for the base there’s fish sauce, lemon juice, anchovy broth...”

Byun watched Hongjoong’s face as he took it all in, nodding at the mention of each soybean sprout or fermented cabbage. It made him wonder what had led to his becoming a pirate if he was indeed so well versed on high society.

“It was very good,” Hongjoong thanked him when he was finished, voice quieting as he added, “Seonghwa should take advice from you.”

Both officers glanced at each other knowingly before rushing to change the topic of conversation.

Fortunately, they didn’t have to. 

The door cracked open and Midshipman Moon poked his head out.

“Admiral Kim’s compliments, sirs, and you’re needed on deck. Weighing anchor.”

The steward looked at Byun in alarm. “But we were told not to leave Lucky alone like last week—”

“He’s weak and he’s tired from the meal, he’ll be fine,” the Lieutenant assured him, pulling him outside and closing the door before muttering, “Prince Seonghwa is present, it will be suspicious if officers are unaccounted for.”

Because even if he fudged the rules about not interacting with the prisoner or not feeding him the same portion as the rest of the men, this order was a serious one and blowing it would land them all in deep trouble.

Both rushed to the quarterdeck, Byun quickly assuming proper posture and running through scenarios in his head in case the prince were to address him.

But he wasn’t in any danger of needing to fabricate a quick lie, because Seonghwa wasn’t paying any attention to the ongoing procedures.

His eyes were on the sea ahead of him.

Byun tried not to think about the fact that just a few decks beneath them was a person the prince believed to be dead.

As always, Byun knew too much. He knew how Seonghwa had become mixed up with the pirate band he had fought so ardently for back in Namhae.

It had been one of those lazy days at the Admiralty a few years ago. Byun was a young midshipman at the time, and nothing exciting had come along in weeks.

Until the captain of a merchant ship burst into the office with reports of piracy. Through stuttering words and shaking breaths he explained how the small pirate vessel, bigger still than the last time it was spotted, had overtaken them and forced them to surrender. 

The ATEEZ had made off with their gold, a chunk of their food supplies, some storage barrels, and one of their men.

But it wasn’t just any of their men. It was the lost prince, entrusted to the merchant by the palace nurse who switched her own child out for him— a preposterous story, most certainly contrived to prioritise the Navy’s search for this crewman, but one so unique it captured Byun’s interest.

And it also moved him to stay the Admiral’s hand when he had the pirates cornered in the inn until after Seonghwa had left.

At so many points along the way, any of his actions could have changed the entire outcome of multiple lives.

Here he was now, because of his insistence that Admiral Kim spare two individuals in two separate events, both of whom could ruin them all given the chance.

And perhaps they still would, a notion which didn’t terrify him as much as it ought to.

Byun remembered having a hard time believing a mere pirate could bewitch his crew to such an extent, but having interacted with him over the course of the month, he was beginning to understand.

Seonghwa had gone from his captive to his friend, Byun could easily go from his captor to his ally.

The prince suddenly turned to Admiral Kim, squinting in suspicion. Lieutenant Byun caught his breath.

“Why are we heading north? I thought the plan was preemptively striking Haemin’s border fortresses.”

“Yes, that remains the plan,” Kim answered dryly. “However, Admiral Lee has called for men to help defend Panhang. He’s a chicken for putting in the request, given how unlikely it is that beach will see action, but the Crow already carries three times as many hands as are needed to crew her, so we can spare them. Then we’ll rendezvous with the rest of the fleet and sail for Haemin.”

At the mention of Panhang, the prince stilled. No more was heard from him until the officers were dismissed and he retreated to his chambers. 

Lieutenant Byun shook off his nerves and tried to return to his duties.

It was a long journey to Haemin but only a day to Panhang. One thing at a time.

...

By the time Yeosang paid the carriage driver and watched him leave, the sun was already rising.

He had travelled through the night back to the estate, with Jungwan carefully disguised in the luggage carrier among baskets and blankets.

“Are we there?” The boy murmured, stretching his sore legs and standing at his full height. Taller than Yeosang remembered him being.

“Yes, but we still need to exercise caution,” Yeosang told him sternly, ushering him out of the road and towards the side of the mansion. “My father might still be here.”

“And he doesn’t know you’re back?” Jungwan whispered as they rounded the corner to the servants’ entrance.

“No,” Yeosang scoffed. “He thinks I’m still in Doljeon, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

Jungwan nodded and stepped into the cramped hallway.

Yeosang still knew the secret passages and shortcuts through the estate from days exploring them in his youth. Though their original function was to help servants move around unseen, they would be useful for the purpose Yeosang had in mind.

“In here,” he whispered, cracking open a door tucked away in a corner of the top floor and ushering Jungwan in. “This is where you’ll stay. I’ll tell the housekeeper, Sohyun, about you. She can be trusted.”

The room was small, but compared to the conditions those boys faced every day, it would do just fine.

Yeosang shuffled about, collecting food, piling boxes and blankets, and wiping away dust where he could while Jungwan looked around the room.

“Where are you going?” The boy asked suddenly when Yeosang turned to leave.

“To rescue the rest of your friends and bring them here,” Yeosang responded, mouth set into a firm line.

“But... you could be caught,” Jungwan’s voice became even quieter. “You could be hurt, or-or even killed—”

“If I don’t save them, no one else will,” Yeosang insisted. “You don’t have a better idea, do you?”

Jungwan cracked a small smile and tilted his head. “You’ve changed.”

Yeosang’s shoulders dropped and he looked out the tiny cracked window, relaxing. Becoming part of something will change you, he knew from experience.

“For the better?”

The younger boy considered it for a moment and nodded. “Yes, I think so.”

Yeosang turned to leave, but Jungwan called after him, “Please be careful! I don’t know what I’m supposed to do if you don’t come back and one of your servants finds me...”

“Give me three days,” he called back before closing the door tightly behind him.

Three days should be enough.

...

Yunho took a deep breath and collected all three plates of breakfast, balancing them in his arms.

Dooeun, Hanbyeol, and some of the other crewmen had offered their help, having grown accustomed to preparing their own food in the month they’d spent stagnated here, but Yunho refused them. He was back onboard the ATEEZ now, and he wanted to do things himself.

It was reminiscent of their last meal together, even the floppy eggs were shaped the same. But Yunho shoved the thought aside and entered Mingi and Jongho’s room. 

Only Jongho was present, sifting through all the belongings in his trunk. He hadn’t seen any of them in a month, but there wasn’t much to begin with.

“Where’s Mingi?” Yunho grunted, lowering his armload precariously onto a small table. 

“Captain’s room,” Jongho answered, eyes widening gratefully as he accepted a bottle of rum with his breakfast. “Bless you for this.”

Yunho smiled fondly, even as he handed his own bottle over to the younger so he could open it for him. He already knew where Mingi was, but it didn’t hurt to ask. 

“Anything good in there?” Yunho asked after taking a swig, nodding towards Jongho’s chest.

“Some guns I stowed away before leaving, my nicer shirts and vests, old taffy...” Jongho procured a small book and flipped through it with a smirk on his face. “This diary. Mostly empty, except for the pages I wrote back when I was afraid of forgetting all of you.”

Yunho chuckled and stabbed a sausage with his fork, peering into the trunk to see the last item nestled at the bottom in a bed of embroidered coats. 

“Your pan flute.”

Jongho gazed at it, biting his lip, before returning to his meal. “Right.”

That flute was special, and out of everything in the box, had the most memories attached to it.

Yunho coughed uncomfortably and took Mingi’s plate in hand. “I should bring it to him before it gets cold,” he reasoned, leaving Jongho to his dusty chest and broken memories.

The Captain’s cabin felt hollow despite everything remaining exactly where it always had been. Yujin hadn’t touched it. Mingi wasn’t planning on touching it.

“He’s always survived against all odds,” a soft voice surprised Yunho until he turned to see Mingi sitting on Hongjoong’s bed, hands in his lap.

He looked like a different person with his hair newly dyed a flaming red.

Yunho’s jaw fell open in shock.

“There was extra red laying around,” Mingi explained, blushing and looking away. “I thought... to keep him alive.”

Yunho nodded and moved to embrace him. There wasn’t much either of them could say, and the moment passed in quiet remembrance.

“So,” Yunho said, pulling back. “What’s the plan?”

Mingi gestured to the trunks and piles of gold scattered throughout the room. 

“There’s enough in my share to provide for my family,” he pointed out. “I’m going to bring it ashore and give it to them. After that... I’m still not sure.”

“My little brother could use the money too, wherever he is,” Yunho mused.

“Then we should make finding him our next move,” Mingi decided, turning to face him. “Do you think Jongho will want to come?”

Yunho laughed outright. “He’s already put the men on a training regimen. And it’s not like he has anywhere else to go.”

“And the crewmen? They’ll follow me?”

Yunho gripped his shoulder and smiled. “We’re with you Mingi.”

...

San was in the thick of it. His attention was currently split three ways between the ammunition he was loading, the cannon fire raining down, and the man bleeding out next to him.

He’d been struck in the arm and had a chance to live, but not if he stayed there writhing on the ground and screaming San’s ears off. 

San dropped his bag of powder to haul the injured soldier up but was promptly yelled at by an officer, presumably for leaving his post, which meant his attention was now split four ways.

“He needs help!” He tried explaining, obviously not getting through the language barrier. “Look at him, he’ll bleed to death!”

San presented the dying man to the officer, who squinted at him and dragged him along to the infirmary. It seemed he had figured things out.

Together they hurried up the stairs to the second deck, ducking when a fiery cannonball tore through the banister and was quickly doused by a swarm of soldiers.

Haemin’s Navy was completely hectic from what San had seen.

The men around him were clearly untrained or unexperienced or both. Fresh recruits, prisoners of war, and a drunken captain who rarely showed his face on deck. 

San had a feeling that even if he could understand the officers’ orders, he wouldn’t be impressed by their military discipline.

The chaos was unmitigated on arriving at the infirmary, and the gunner in charge of him had to bring along another officer who spoke San’s language for him to explain his medical qualifications to.

“I need a saw or a knife— something sharp,” San enunciated. “Sharp! You know...” he tried to draw the shape in the air and the officer nodded slowly before his eyes lit up and he ran away, returning with a saw.

“Good,” San sighed, rolling the injured man onto a table. “Now clean it with something. Ointment, alcohol— what’s this? Whale blubber soap? That’s fine, clean it with that.”

The officers made eye contact once before nodding and complying.

“Where’s your surgeon?” San asked as he quickly and efficiently tied off the bleeding limb and snatched one of the officers’ jackets for the man to bite into. “I’m assuming you have one?”

“Dead,” the translator answered, pointing to a fresh bloodstain on the floor that a body had clearly been dragged out of. “His head...” the man mimicked an explosion and indicated his own head, as if trying to demonstrate the event.

“I got it, thank you,” San said quickly, wincing and returning to his patient. “Tell him not to squirm, I’ll try to make it as painless as possible.”

The translator complied and the injured man looked up at him with fear in his eyes before trying to relax. It was his best shot at survival, there was no other choice.

Even as much as he hated slaving away for this foreign nightmare ship, as long as San survived the battle, it didn’t matter to him who won the war. He could clean wounds on both sides without feeling guilty about it.

And so he gripped the saw comfortably in his hands and began the work he was made for.

...

Waiting in the stables was one of Yeosang’s old friends.

“Yuma!” He breathed delightedly, almost dropping his bag of supplies in his excitement to reach the horse.

Sure enough, Yuma remembered him. He nuzzled him affectionately while Yeosang searched for his saddle.

“Oh Yuma, I thought maybe Father had sold you or worse...”

Once the horse was ready to go, Yeosang took his long face in his hands and hugged him tight. “I know you’re old and tired but... I need you to take me away. One last time.”

Yuma nickered agreeably just enough to make Yeosang smile softly before swinging himself up and giving the command.

They tore out of the stables and back through the woods, headed east. Yeosang knew the shortcuts back to Doljeon and from there, they would follow the river to where it met the sea.

The naval shipyard of Kon.

The pair made good time, only stopping once or twice briefly for a break and walking when they had to. 

By mid-afternoon, Yeosang had dismounted to offer his steed some water and rented out a cart to hide the rest of the powder monkeys in when he had them.

Yuma had earned his break and waited comfortably in a nearby field while Yeosang hurried off to the docks.

He hoped he wasn’t too late.

The port town was crowded and running wild behind what seemed to be a fresh draft notice.

Yeosang overheard the news on his way down to the ships, but with everyone talking about it the entire length of the street, the news was hard to miss.

“A notice from the palace. All privateers are instructed to report to the Admiralty and join the naval fleet, and all independent pirates who submit themselves to the ranks will be pardoned for past crimes, even awarded if they perform exceptionally in the King’s service.”

Exciting for some, but Yeosang knew the true implications of this draft. No matter how the Admiral framed it, he was still putting children in harm’s way when he could easily deploy his own men or recruit more.

The blabbering sea sponge peddler debating the order with his neighbour seemed eager enough. 

Determined not to let those boys be forced to the front lines, Yeosang made his way to Si-Hyuk’s ship, relieved to find it anchored close to the main street.

It was a place he could never forget.

The last time he’d been on it, he was running away in the dead of night, stolen maps clutched close to his chest and his entire life laid out behind him.

He’d had no idea what awaited him then, but today’s plan was clear. Break in, find the boys, break out.

No pirate worth his salt would ever dream of coming into port at Kon, which meant little security and easy access.

Nearly all the naval attention was focused on the shipwrights and their floating skeletons, all of them growing into new warships while the privateers waited alongside them, readying themselves for battle.

The dockworkers were chatting with each other animatedly and it was almost too good to be true, so Yeosang initiated the distraction tactic of yelling “stop, thief!” and then directing everyone in his vicinity up the hill, clearing out the area so he could freely board.

He knew the quartermaster had eyes on the back of his head, so he moved swiftly and silently into the lower decks.

It was a part of the ship he had never frequented, but the powder monkeys were found where powder monkeys usually are, huddled around in a cramped circle whispering to each other, surrounded by their hammocks in the lowest deck. 

“Let me guess, you don’t want to go to war?”

A dozen heads snapped to attention, eyes widening as they realised who was in their presence. 

“Kang Yeosang? Is that really you?”

Yeosang ducked under a hammock, trying not to be slapped in the face by the dirty feet hanging out of it, and nodded his affirmation.

“I’ve come to get you all out of here.”

Even more puzzled whispers broke out at this, and the first boy who had spoken shushed them all so he could speak again.

“Are you just taking us to another ship? Your father, the navigator— did he put you up to this?”

Yeosang sighed and scrubbed his face. “Yechan, right?”

The boy nodded and crossed his arms.

“Listen, Yechan,” Yeosang said quickly. “If any of you have good parents or a decent home, I’d be glad to take you there. The point is, I’m not letting you sail into gunfire. You’re all too young for this and none of you signed on for it. Jungwan found me and he’s already safe back at the estate, waiting. Anyone who needs somewhere to stay is welcome there until we can arrange something permanent. But there isn’t much time, so all I can ask is that you trust me.”

There was a beat of silence before a younger boy, Myungjoong, stood and faced him.

“We’ve nowhere else to go and I don’t fancy getting my head blown off. I say we go with him.”

A murmur of agreement swept the group.

“He  _ did _ run away and live with pirates,” Heeseung warned, eyeing Yeosang suspiciously. “It could all be a kidnapping scheme.”

“To what end?” Yechan argued back. “Any pirate with a head on his shoulders is sailing away from this war. I’m with Myungjoong on this. Anyone else?”

A few boys filled their pockets with what little they had and stood to leave. But still, some of them hesitated, and Yeosang tapped his foot impatiently.

“The dockworkers are probably back by now,” Yeosang groaned. “It’s now or never.”

The rest of them communicated silently with each other before coming to a consensus and joining.

“How are you planning on sneaking us out?” Another boy asked. Taehyun, if Yeosang remembered correctly.

The question was a rational one, and it had Yeosang scratching the back of his neck in frustration.

“I can’t just walk out with all of you, it’ll turn heads.”

“Inhong has an idea!” Myungjoong spoke up, nudging an even younger boy who blushed shyly and pointed at the big stack of empty barrels behind him.

Yeosang blinked, impressed.

“Alright, into the barrels, all of you. I have a plan.”

...

Mingi adjusted his grip on his chest of gold until he was holding it as comfortably as possible.

It was a cumbersome load that he and Yunho had taken from the captain’s quarters but it was going to a good cause.

Mingi tried to quell his nervousness and find comfort in Yunho’s presence as he rowed them both back to the beach.

He was thankful Yunho hadn’t given up on him in all his bouts of sullenness and dejection.

It was difficult being here in such a meaningful place, walking on sand that reminded him of another time, taking paths that led directly back to his past.

They stopped at the top of the cliff to appreciate the view and, for Mingi, relive some of the happier moments of his childhood before turning away and following the road home.

Together they stood facing the cottage, one of the window shutters hanging slightly off its hinge, but everything else in the condition Mingi had left it.

“Is this the place?” Yunho prodded gently.

Mingi nodded and took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

As they waited for an answer, he began having second thoughts. What if his parents didn’t want to see him? What if they did but were angry with him for leaving? What if his proffered chest of gold was an insult to them? What if they weren’t even there and the house had been sold or abandoned for good?

The door flew open and there his mother stood, hand coming up to her mouth in shock.

“Mingi?”

He nodded and placed the chest on the ground so he could wrap her in a hug. He could see Father standing in the hallway behind her, equally surprised to see him and his eyes watered as he pulled him in, too.

They stood there together for a minute longer before remembering their manners and inviting Yunho inside.

“Who is this?”

“Where have you been?”

Both parents asked their questions simultaneously before laughing and letting Mingi speak.

“It’s a long story, but this is my friend Yunho. We... we worked together for the past few years, along with some others.”

“Doing what?” His father asked, ushering the guest into a chair. “Fishing?”

Yunho coughed awkwardly and looked to Mingi for help, unsure how much he was planning on divulging.

“Something like that,” Mingi dismissed, presenting the chest of gold with a deep breath. “We’ve managed to acquire a significant amount of wealth in our travels and... well, we decided to come here to offer some of it to you.”

Mingi’s parents looked at each other with wide eyes before his mother carefully took the box in hand and opened it to see if it was, in fact, true.

Shining gold reflected off of her shocked face and she closed the lid quickly. “Mingi, we could never take this, it’s far more than we need and  you earned it. It’s yours.”

“No, Mother,” Mingi insisted, taking her hand. “It’s for you, I’ve made up my mind. You don’t need to work in those conditions anymore, you deserve to live in comfort for everything you’ve done to save our family.”

For a moment, Mingi’s father looked too ashamed to even speak, but he grasped his son’s shoulder in gratitude and told him he was proud.

It was all Mingi wanted to hear.

“Please be careful if you go back out there,” Mother told him when the sun was long gone, their bellies were full, and both boys were on their way out. “With all this talk of war, I would hate for anything to happen to you.”

“And visit when you get the chance,” Father asked him. “We’re always concerned about you.”

“Don’t worry, sir,” Yunho smiled confidently. “He has me looking after him.”

As they walked the path back to town, Mingi finally let happy tears fall.

“Do you think they know what you’ve been doing all this time?” Yunho asked softly.

Mingi chuckled and wiped his face.

“I don’t doubt it. They did raise me, after all.”

“I think I had better treat you to a drink,” Yunho hummed, grabbing Mingi’s face and brushing away any excess tears. “You did well today.”

So he slung his arm around his shoulders and led him off to the tavern, the door swinging shut behind them.

...

“Hello Lucky.”

Hongjoong looked up at the sound of the door but didn’t acknowledge the voice addressing him.

Lieutenant Byun, dropping by for no reason. From among the four officers who visited, Byun did so the most frequently and most needlessly.

At least on this chilly evening, he had no reason to be here save for his own inquiring.

Hongjoong wasn’t dying at the moment, didn’t need to be fed or washed, and wasn’t currently required to help strategise against enemy soldiers.

“You’re curious about me,” he concluded, running a hand through messy bleached hair. The pink had long since disappeared, and an icy sort of white remained.

The lieutenant scoffed and averted his eyes, gazing out the small window at the passing waves.

“I’m curious about the pirate king,” Byun admitted, shuffling back and forth. “Who was he and how did he go from high society to the scum of the earth?”

Hongjoong shook his head with a small smile and obliged.

“A desperate orphan with nowhere else to go, and he met a notorious pirate who was somehow still a better parent to him than his own relatives were. I think you get the picture.”

“But why are you—  were you— public enemy number one?” Lieutenant Byun pressed. “What did you do to make the Admiral hate you so much?”

Hongjoong’s smile fell and he looked away, body going limp again and piquing the officer’s interest even more. He regretted it, whatever it was.

The door suddenly opened again for the surgeon, bringing his box of supplies in himself this time.

Byun frowned in confusion. “You already did your daily checkup, what’s all this?”

The surgeon began to lay out his tools without answering, which was answer enough for the lieutenant.

“No, no, no, I said  _ no _ experimenting!” He insisted. “He’s healthy enough now, so unless your bubbling concoctions and strange looking corkscrews can make him superhuman, don’t expect help from me!”

“I knew you wouldn’t be assisting,” the surgeon chuckled, pushing his patient down and keeping him there with an iron grip. “That’s why I summoned Lieutenant Park.”

Byun pinched his nose in exasperation and attempted to wrestle away a pair of bent scissors. “What are you even trying to induce? Madness?”

“A haircut, Byun!” The surgeon fought back, reaching for Hongjoong as he tried to wriggle away. “It’s just a haircut!”

“Why don’t I believe you?” The lieutenant retorted sarcastically, confiscating the scissors and then whining again when the surgeon snatched up a knife.

“Terribly sorry, I’m here now,” Park panted from the doorway, closing the door behind him and hurrying over. “What’s all the ruckus?”

“Lieutenant Byun won’t let me do my research,” Surgeon Oh said sharply.

“Go steal from a grave instead, I need him alive,” Byun snapped back. “I-I mean the _Admiral_ needs him alive—”

Suddenly the surgeon’s hand was covering his mouth and the room fell quiet. “Listen,” he whispered. All Byun could hear was Hongjoong’s shallow breaths and the scrape of the metal chains as he curled himself into a protective ball.

And then the faint sound of footsteps.

The surgeon suddenly released him and ran to the door to look out the hole.

“You were followed,” he grunted to Park before turning around lightning quick, voice barely a whisper. “It’s the prince.”

The three of them leapt into action, the surgeon muffling the patient’s protests and injecting a sedative into him while Byun silently dragged a card table and pair of chairs over.

Lieutenant Park went about sorting the cards quickly into piles to look like they’d been playing already and when he didn’t have a place to sit, threw a blanket over the prisoner and plopped down on him, ignoring Byun’s glare.

All in all, it took about fifteen seconds. Better than when they’d practiced. The knock came right on cue.

“Come in!” the surgeon called, the door opening a second later.

Prince Seonghwa crossed his arms but stayed in the doorway to voice his complaint.

“Admiral Kim neglected to give me the report. How close are we to land?”

“Another forty minutes, Your Highness,” Byun responded, bowing his head to avoid eye contact.

Seonghwa looked like he was about to leave, but turned to face them once more and tilted his head, almost amused.

“And what are you fine officers doing down here on the lowest decks in secret?”

“Gambling,” Surgeon Oh supplied the prepared answer with finesse, his voice brittle like it was admitting a lurid secret. “The Admiral strictly forbids it so... we hope you’ll understand.”

“Forget you saw anything!” Lieutenant Park laughed nervously, almost too nervously, but the prince seemed to take the bait.

“You should make your play now, surgeon,” he quipped. “None of Lieutenant Byun’s cards are high enough.”

Byun pretended to be put out as if he was surprised the prince knew gambling games or hadn’t known his cards were on full display because he couldn’t hold them properly in his shaking hands, and the trio laughed awkwardly until Seonghwa was safely gone.

Lieutenant Byun abandoned the act and immediately hissed across the table at Park, “You could have cracked his rib, you giant beansprout!”

“A cracked rib is better than the prince deciding to investigate the mysterious lump in the corner for himself!” Park defended himself. “Admiral Kim would shoot me dead before the report even finished leaving my mouth and you know it.”

“Just get off him and let’s see the damage,” Byun huffed, dropping his cards and scooting the table out of the way.

Thankfully, there were no new injuries. Just wounds that had been healing slowly but surely during Hongjoong’s time here. Byun recognised one or two scars he had put there himself a month ago. 

A month or a lifetime... it was difficult to tell.

“He’s asleep,” Lieutenant Park sighed, relieved.

“I need him awake for my pain tolerance study,” the surgeon tutted, putting his tools away once more.

“Pain tolerance!” Byun spluttered. “Focus on getting him back on his feet, then maybe I’ll let you do your job.”

Oh rolled his eyes and saw himself out.

“Do you think his pain tolerance is better than average?” Park posed the question after a moment of silence.

Byun turned to face the prisoner and blinked away the mist in his own eyes. “I tortured him myself before the execution. It was difficult to tell either way.”

“Why do you care so much?” Park asked quietly, and the question echoed in Byun’s head.

He tried to shrug it off. “You would too if you’d seen him that day. Underneath all that wreckage, seconds away from death. I just got this feeling that his life wasn’t meant to be taken from him this way... like we’d made a mistake.”

Park watched the prisoner sleep a minute more before laying the blanket on him again. “I see what you mean.”

Carefully he collected the playing cards and set them up for a game for two. “Go get some rest. He’ll probably destroy me at this, considering he’s a good-for-nothing pirate, but I might as well keep him entertained when he wakes.”

Byun smiled at his friend’s willingness and went to get some hard earned sleep before they docked. 

At least he wasn’t the only one torn between two sides of a secret dilemma.

...

Yeosang quickly found that counting heads was not as easy as Hongjoong made it out to be back in the good old days.

He was already scatterbrained from keeping their volume low while also managing the entire operation.

“Yechan, Heesung, Myungjoong, Inhong, Taehyun, you’re all ready to go. Hello, Sunghoon, keep an eye on Byungwon, there’s a loose nail in his barrel and I don’t have medical supplies...” 

Ten of them rolled past before he began to see faces he didn’t recognise.

“I don’t think I’ve met you, what’s your name? Hansol? Alright Hansol, proceed with caution. Jaehyuk, Changsun, Jisung, are your groups present? Right, who are we missing then?”

Juna.

Juna, the eight year old with the dirty feet. The youngest of their group but most experienced due to the fact that he was born on the ship, and probably also the most vulnerable of them with his hacking cough.

Yeosang helped the boy into his barrel and warned him to be quiet before rolling him out to meet the rest.

Twenty-seven barrels, each with their bottoms carved out and a powder monkey hidden inside. 

It would take some very convincing acting to get them all off this ship.

Just as they’d been instructed, one by one they silently crept up the stairs through the decks until they reached the top, stopping and freezing in place any time another sailor got too close.

Yeosang brought up the rear and once they approached the main deck, it was his time to shine.

The boys all assembled in an orderly fashion in front of him, tucking in their feet and preparing to be rolled down the gangplank as their hero lashed them all together.

“Patience,” Yeosang whispered. “We need to encounter as few people as possible for this to work.”

The moment the man in the crow’s nest became distracted with the sails, they took their chance, rolling down onto the dock and stopping when Yeosang ordered them to.

Unfortunately, he was correct. The port workers were back and much more alert than they had been the first time around. They stopped Yeosang and his barrels and immediately asked why he was unloading the ship instead of loading it.

“Gunpowder,” he lied smoothly. “It’s expired, lost its potency.”

The man reached down to check for himself before Yeosang blurted out, “Very dangerous! I wouldn’t do that.”

Hand halted mid-air, the worker nodded and stepped back so he could pass.

Just when he thought he was in the clear, Yeosang suddenly heard a loud coughing sound from below him, slightly muffled through the barrel boards.

“Juna!” He hissed. “Quiet!”

“What’s that?” One of the dockworkers called out. 

Yeosang forced a smile and turned to face him. 

“Nothing!” He coughed a few times into his elbow for good measure. “Just a little cough. This powder irritates my lungs, I had better get rid of it quickly.”

The port men waved him on again and Yeosang tried to relax, rolling the barrels as quickly as he could without looking more suspicious than he already was.

Yuma was excited to see they had company, and it was all Yeosang could do to keep everyone quiet and get them inside the cart before someone in the area got curious.

A few of the boys were arguing over space and pushing each other around so Yeosang stuck his head in to silence them and hurriedly attached the cart to a restless Yuma.

They turned onto the main path, leaving behind a field full of empty barrels, and set off for the Kang Estate.

Yuma wasn’t accustomed to pulling so much weight, so they took the slower but safer main road to Doljeon and past it. They would have to ride through the night, but it was better than getting lost in the woods with twenty-seven powder monkeys and no emergency supplies.

“Good work, Yuma,” Yeosang encouraged the horse, sitting back with the reigns in hand and listening to the boys converse quietly before they dropped off to sleep.

It was his responsibility to stay awake and keep them moving. He was their guardian now, however unqualified he felt for the position.

The sunset beckoned him and so he followed it.

...

San found himself sitting alone with blood coating his arms and the front of his shirt.

It wasn’t his, it was the men’s. One patient had turned into three, then seven, then the entire infirmary was his workspace and some of the men he treated were saved fast enough that they could go back into combat.

These Haemin soldiers weren’t well trained, but they were fighters. They could hit and run nearly as well as any pirate, and so thanks to their combined efforts, they had won this round.

Many had kept their lives, and San had kept his as well.

“Water.”

A voice behind him shook him out of his thoughts.

The translator stood there with a bucket of clean water for San to wash his hands with.

The surgeon took it gratefully and rinsed off the crimson stain, paying special care to his wrists, raw from their chains.

“I suppose you’ll be returning me to the prison deck?” San sighed. His work was done for now, all patients dead or in stablecondition, and the attacking Navy ship had long retreated.

The translator nodded with a small frown and hauled him to his feet, escorting him back. If he didn’t know better, San would think the man felt sorry for him.

San wished, not for the first time, that the Navy was in the habit of taking prisoners. They could attack the ship and drag him away to a ship of the line he recognised. Then at least he’d have someone to talk to.

...

Jongho had to catch Yujin by the back of his collar and drag him to the fitness session. The pirate complained about needing to collect freshwater for the evening meal but Jongho would have none of it.

“We can’t just sit around drinking forever,” he told the gathered men in his most intimidating voice possible. “The Navy is building a garrison just up the beach and that means we need to be ready to face them or flee when they get close. Daehan, when’s the last time you even rigged the sails without Yunho here to tell you to?”

“Um... a month and a half ago?” The pirate coughed uncomfortably.

“Exactly,” Jongho snapped. “The time for being lazy slobs is over. I’m here to whip you all back into shape and prepare you for the fight of your lives. Because I may not see the future anymore, but I still know what’s coming, and you’re in no condition to stand a chance when it does.”

By the end of it they were all sweaty and gasping for breath, but the decks were spotless, the ship careened, the sails repaired, the guns shining and ready to be fired, and every man aboard had been drilled and drilled again in combat manoeuvres and self-defense. 

Jongho took his work seriously, there was no question about that.

When finally Yujin was released to the longboats to row ashore, buckets in hand, his arms were so sore it took him twice as long as usual.

He finished his work quickly and prepared to leave, neglecting to check whether the beach was deserted or not.

That was his first mistake.

...

Panhang.

It was a place neither Hongjoong or Mingi had ever desired to speak about. It was a name that slipped through lips that were soaked in rum and loosened enough to reveal the past.

And it made Seonghwa curious enough to disembark when the men were marched out to the half-constructed garrison. Panhang was situated on a beautiful stretch of coastline and as the wind swept his hair, Seonghwa was hit with that same feeling that came over him in the market. Something reminiscent of his childhood, a desire to explore.

With a glance in the Admiral’s direction, Seonghwa concluded that he wouldn’t be missed if he went for a stroll down the beach and gathered his things.

Some money in case he got hungry, a change of clothes should it snow, and everything needed for his weapons. He never left those behind under any circumstances.

His wanderings took him far down the beach until the Black Crow and the lighthouse were out of sight and the distant arch of weathered rock jutting out from the cliffside had grown closer.

It was a little bit too far, and Seonghwa was considering going back or heading into town when the ocean breeze became a bit too cold for his loose clothing, but when he approached the arch something caught his eye.

There was a ship out there, barely visible from the beach except for from the specific angle at which he was standing.

It was the ATEEZ.

Emotions conflicted inside Seonghwa and squeezed his heart painfully.

There she was, the ship that he considered his home, the place that he had missed so much in his days at the palace— but at the same time, he knew every man aboard it was a traitorous snake, and the thought that they had all left Hongjoong to die at the first sign of trouble was a bitter one.

Sounds from the other side of the rock caught his attention and he drew his gun silently.

Someone was loading a longboat with freshwater and humming to himself carelessly.

Seonghwa could only see the back of the man’s head from where he hid, but it was enough. That was Yujin’s signature headband— it was him.

Before he lost his chance, Seonghwa jumped out from behind the arch and pointed his gun at the traitor.

Yujin squeaked and turned around, almost dropping a bucket of water.

Fire blazed in Seonghwa’s eyes and he pressed the barrel right up to the man’s forehead.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you where you stand.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooooow hi everyone, I know this took awhile to get out but just FYI I’m going back to classes tomorrow so I can’t promise the updates to be any faster but, as always, I’ll be working on them :) Let me know what you thought!!


	4. Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sailing east, saving friends, re-establishing the pirate havens— I can think of no better future for the ATEEZ than that. Are we all in agreement?”

San had been aware that they were travelling north for some time, presumably to challenge the navy fleet, but when the course of the Haemin ship slightly shifted in the morning towards northeast, his curiosity was piqued.

Hues of dawn filtering in and the feeling of the ship changing direction awoke him and despite not being called to any task, he contrived an excuse to go on deck and find out what this was about.

“My patients,” he explained quietly to the guard overseeing him. “I need to check on them.”

“Battle is over,” the translator reminded him, joining the conversation. “You are no longer doctor.”

“But they could still die,” he hissed, leaning closer. “If not properly cleaned and re-bandaged, there may be infection.”

The man tilted his head in confusion and San sighed before mimicking sickness. “You know, infection?”

The translator sighed and looked away. He knew San was right, even though he had probably been ordered not to let any of the war prisoners on deck. San nodded him on, waiting for his good sense to win out.

“Alright, be quick.”

He couldn’t get much information out of his patients, all of whom didn’t speak his language and none of whom were officers. At least he managed to save them all.

But when his translator pointed to the captain’s quarters and mimed vomiting, an opportunity suddenly arose.

The man was half in his bed and half out of it, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead and the familiar stench of rum permeating the room. San cracked a smile. He wasn’t infected, he was drunk. As to be expected from a sloppy Haemin captain who clearly did not want to be deployed.

“Make him a stew. Lots of broth, vegetables, and meat. Not too spicy,” San ordered the translator who raised an eyebrow at being ordered around before nodding and disappearing in the direction of the galley.

Finally, he was alone with the war plans.

Ignoring the sound of the captain emptying his stomach contents into a bucket, San ran around the small desk and peered at the maps laid out across it.

The positions of a few known ships were marked on it.

What he assumed was the Black Crow was last sighted on route to Panhang, a few escort ships were just leaving Kon, and closer to where he was, a small drawing depicted yesterday’s action.

A skull represented the Navy ship they’d just sunk, the Horned Arrow, and from it a line stretched away to the northeast, named The Paragon.

“That’s us,” San whispered. At least now he knew what ship he was on. It was more than enough and the soldier could return at any moment but he glanced at the door and decided to dig for more. What was life without risks?

A second map underneath the first portrayed a closer view of some of the islands San recognised. There was Coral Harbour, the Dagger Cliffs, even Maddox’s island.

San furrowed his brow in confusion. How had the Haemin navigators even gotten their hands on this information?

The third paper was a scroll in a foreign language, so San discarded it. It was probably orders from their king or generals, but not until it fell to the ground and turned over did San notice what was illustrated on the other side. He smacked his head in annoyance at what should have been obvious from the combined documents.

They were of Haemin’s entire fleet interrupting trade routes and cutting off the islands from the mainland. The Paragon was headed for Maddox’s Island— they weren’t going to fire on the coastline.

They were going to hit the colonies.

...

As they made their way down to the beach, Yunho listened intently to all of Mingi’s memories. Nothing quite unearthed them like coming into port at the home where he’d lived longest, and there were many amusing stories to be told of his life before the ATEEZ.

“And to think I was worried that she fancied Hongjoong!” Mingi laughed nostalgically, leading Yunho down the path to the beach. A misstep could send them down the cliff, so it was a good thing Mingi knew his way around. “She only even met him a few times. All along Hongjoong wasn’t the person I should’ve been intimidated by.”

“Hey,” Yunho recognised the slow downturn of Mingi’s lips and stopped him before he made himself feel guilty again. “You were just a boy then, you didn’t know any differently.”

“Maybe not, but there’s something that is my fault,” Mingi sighed, pulling on his hair. “If not for me, he would’ve never been ambushed and separated from Eden or stranded on that island...”

“But Mingi,” Yunho insisted, turning him around to face him. “If not for those things happening, none of us would’ve met each other.”

Mingi opened his mouth to say something else and Yunho cut him off. “Everything happens for a reason, Mingi. I know that now.” Pursing his lips, he gazed out at the sea and let his own inhibitions go before resting his forehead against Mingi’s. “It’s in the past. You need to let go so you can heal.”

“And you need to allow yourself to feel things so you can heal,” Mingi whispered back, smirking again slowly. “We’ve made a mess of things, haven’t we?”

Yunho snorted out a small chuckle and squeezed Mingi’s shoulders. “I think we had better figure it out, for Jongho’s sake.”

“For our sake, too,” Mingi responded warmly, a bitter smile shared between them before noises from the beach interrupted the moment.

Yunho pulled away and blinked, recognising the voices. “Is that...?”

“Seonghwa!”

...

Yujin swallowed nervously. That was a very angry Seonghwa in front of him, and he didn’t look like he was joking around with his gun.

“I-I-I’m...”

“Spit it out!” Seonghwa growled, clicking off the safety.

“I can tell you what happened!” Yujin screamed, curling into himself. “You want to know about the Captain, don’t you?”

“I know what happened,” Seonghwa snapped back. “You back-stabbing lot abandoned him, and he met his end at the end of a rope— or at least I hope so, instead of some worse way afterwards. So you had better have a good explanation for me not to blow your brains out on the spot.”

“He told us to come here... we were just following orders...” Yujin’s eyes filled with tears and something in Seonghwa softened. “You can ask the officers aboard, we truly had no idea—”

“Officers on board?” Seonghwa interrupted, pulling away to glance at the ATEEZ again. “Which officers?”

“Seonghwa!”

Mingi and Yunho came jogging down the hill, hurrying their speed when he spotted them and crushing him in a hug, completely disregarding Yujin.

Seonghwa found himself dropping the gun in shock and lifting his arms to hug them both back fiercely.

He’d dreamed of this moment, and it was actually happening.

“You’re alive!” He laughed through tears when they pulled away.

“And you’re here!” Mingi exclaimed with a smile so bright it rivalled the sun.

“Where have you been?” Seonghwa immediately asked, shaking from the excitement. “Is Jongho—?”

“He’s fine,” Yunho reassured him quickly. “But he’ll be upset if we wait to tell him we found you.”

“Let’s not keep him waiting then!” Seonghwa laughed as he scooped up his weapon and jumped into the longboat with them, headed towards the ATEEZ. A feeling he’d long missed.

Yujin cowered in the back and Seonghwa didn’t speak to him. He still had some explaining to do.

The general noise of the main deck faded into a reverent tension the moment the prince stepped back on board. Almost as if...

As if they had thought he was dead, too.

The quiet was broken as Jongho came flying down from the quarterdeck and buried himself in Seonghwa’s coat.

“I-I missed you,” he choked out something that sounded like both a laugh and a cry. “I was worried that—”

“I know,” Seonghwa sighed, holding him close. “I missed you, too.”

Suddenly embarrassed for being sentimental in full view of the men, Jongho led the officers into the captain’s quarters and got them some drinks while Seonghwa looked around and let the emotions wash over him.

Four of them were reunited, already better than he could have asked for.

“How did you end up in Panhang?” Jongho asked, sitting next to Seonghwa at the table and instinctively leaning his head forward for Seonghwa to play with his hair.

“I came here on the Black Crow,” Seonghwa informed them dryly, sighing when Jongho pulled back to give him an alarmed look before offering his head again. “I suppose I brought it on myself. Being cooped up in the palace was driving me mad and I hoped to find you. Evidently it was the proper course considering how fast I ran into you.”

The group of them chuckled at that. Nothing like a random stroke of fate in their favour for once.

“I’m glad I don’t have to sleep in a dingy inn at least,” Seonghwa pointed out. “I’m afraid I did get used to luxury pillows.”

“Well, we can still show you around Panhang,” Yunho offered. “If you want to see where Mingi and Hongjoong grew up.”

At the mention of Hongjoong all the air went out of the room again.

“I’m... I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news again,” Seonghwa muttered, closing his eyes. “But Hongjoong—”

“We know,” Jongho whispered, relaxing even more and laying his head on Seonghwa’s shoulder. “We heard when we came back from the islands.”

“Don’t blame yourselves,” Seonghwa cautioned quietly as he watched his friends’ gazes lower in shame. “The situation was very complicated. Even with all of us there I fear it wouldn’t have made a difference.”

“I can’t imagine how horrible it must’ve been to witness,” Mingi whispered, dragging his hands through his bright red hair. Seonghwa could guess why it had changed to that colour and he overlooked it with a pinch in his stomach at the longing in Mingi’s eyes. He had clearly wished to be there.

“I’m glad you were with him though,” Yunho sighed shakily. “I didn’t want him to be alone.”

“Actually,” Seonghwa’s mouth went dry and he tried again. “Actually, I didn’t see anything. The explosion sort of interrupted things.”

A glint returned to Mingi’s eyes, and the room went quiet again with unasked questions before Seonghwa asked a question of his own.

“What became of Eden? I assume he’s not with you.”

“Eden stayed behind,” Yunho explained with a sigh. “On our way to the mystic he was injured in a jaguar attack, but we got him to the temple in time to be saved. Unless something went drastically wrong, he’s alive.”

Seonghwa considered the pirate’s reputation. His survival was hardly surprising, though it did make him wonder how he would react if he heard the news.

When they’d been quiet for long enough to come back to reality, Jongho sat up and looked Seonghwa in the eye.

“We’ll understand if you don’t want to sleep here anymore,” he murmured gently, prompting Seonghwa to look around the room.

If the Black Crow had been reminiscent, this was full on reliving memories. Seonghwa didn’t like the idea of sleeping in this room alone, but he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to leave it.

“I’ll stay,” he decided, and Mingi quickly elected to sleep there as well, taking up Hongjoong’s bed so it wasn’t empty. It fit perfectly in Seonghwa’s eyes.

Looking around, Seonghwa couldn’t help but think about how they’d all ended up where they truly began. “Do you know why he promoted me?” He asked his gathered friends in a stroke of nostalgia. There was no need to ask who he was talking about.

Mingi sat back and eyed him as the memories came back. “He told me he had spilled too much information to you.”

“But if that was true, he should’ve shot me or had me thrown overboard instead, shouldn’t he?” Seonghwa challenged.

They all chuckled fondly. Perhaps he should have, but Hongjoong wasn’t one for doing what he was supposed to.

Seonghwa shook his head and set his cup down. “No, I believe he promoted me because he could tell I cared more than I let on. And he wanted to give me something to be a part of.”

“I think he’d confirm that... if he were here,” Yunho mused before standing to collect the cups, a slow smile spreading on his face. They were all part of something, even now. “Half of us are together again,” he pointed out. “Just three more whose whereabouts remain a mystery.”

“Actually, make that two,” Seonghwa informed them, standing to shed his coat and his boots. “I’ve met Yeosang recently, and I have a general idea of where he is. Wooyoung and San however...”

“They’re alright,” Jongho remarked with a measure of confidence in his voice that Seonghwa had missed. “They’re smart and resourceful- I trust them.”

And so they bid their goodnights and settled in, Seonghwa sinking into his familiar hammock with a bittersweet ball of emotion in his throat.

“Will you be alright?” Mingi whispered from Hongjoong’s bed. It was still Hongjoong’s.

Seonghwa turned to face him and nodded truthfully. “As long as we have each other.”

...

Hongjoong awoke to a fuzzy feeling in his head and a strange pain in his side. Deep in the guts of the Black Crow, the chill of the night fogged his breath and had him reaching for the blanket laid over him.

“Was someone sitting on me?” He muttered into the wintry air, mostly to himself until he realised he wasn’t alone.

Lieutenant Park was sitting on the floor in front of him, beet red in the face, with a card deck laid out between them.

“Uh... Maybe?”

The events before being injected were blurred together in Hongjoong’s mind, but he brushed them aside and focused on struggling to sit up.

He glanced at Park curiously when the blanket slipped off his shoulders and the lieutenant purposefully avoided looking at it.

“I think Lieutenant Byun has gone soft on you,” Park explained, clearing his throat with the awkwardness that told Hongjoong he was much less confident handling the prisoner on his own. So that was where the blanket had come from.

“Has he?” Hongjoong hummed distractedly, gathering the deck and shuffling it with ease. He removed the card values they didn’t need and dealt each of them twelve cards, laying the remaining eight in the middle. “How about a trick-taking game?”

He had a feeling Byun wasn’t the only officer who’d gone soft.

“I know this game,” Park announced with a grin as they began, both trading out cards with the centre deck before declaring their combinations. Suddenly the lieutenant had hope of winning, unless his opponent tried anything dirty.

But soon Park was sour again when the prisoner had him beat in sequences and sets alike and moved on to lead a trick.

“Byun’s convinced you’re not the degenerate pirate scum you’ve been made out to be,” Park finally replied, looking away from Hongjoong’s face as the pirate played a different suit.

“What about you?” Hongjoong asked, sitting back as Park led another trick and did the arithmetic in his head. The pirate was ahead.

“I haven’t made up my mind, but I know I’m not supposed to have an opinion. I’m a lower ranking lieutenant, I follow orders...”

“And if you were ordered to help degenerate pirate scum instead of imprison them— what would you do then?” Hongjoong posited, an amused lilt to his voice as he took yet another trick. His memory was beginning to return as the drugs wore off.

“I— No, no,” Park caught himself before he fell into a trap. “I see what you’re trying to do. But we have no reason to aid pirates. They’re wicked and vile, the Navy is the upholder of civilisation and-and nobility and justice—”

“Byun becoming disillusioned by the horrors of navy life, despite studying hard since youth in accordance with the wishes of his parents? That actually sounds like my sailing master,” Hongjoong commented dryly as he quickly calculated which cards were left.

“B-But Lieutenant Byun would never become a pirate!” Park spluttered, aggressively scooping up the pile as he took a trick.

“I think he might prefer it to this,” Hongjoong muttered. “And I’m speaking from experience.”

“Oh, nonsense! The life of a pirate must be worse. Constant violence and threat, needing to steal to get by...” Park trailed off and took the next trick. He was catching up.

“But there is freedom,” Hongjoong insisted firmly. “I wouldn’t have chosen it otherwise.”

Soon they were nearly out of cards and the lieutenant smiled confidently at his opponent. “You weren’t as good as I thought.”

“Are you sure about that?” Hongjoong said, taking the final trick.

“But...” Park furrowed his brow and looked down at the cards in front of them. “I won more tricks, didn’t I?”

“I won the last trick, that’s an extra point,” Hongjoong reminded him. “Plus I scored thirty points before you had any in the declaration phase, which is another bonus. Add them up yourself, you’ll see.”

The twinkle in his eye told Park he had been played and he gritted his teeth. He should’ve expected it. “You knew what cards I had, didn’t you?”

“It’s a strategy game,” Hongjoong shrugged, flicking a card at him. “Not that difficult to figure it out if you pay attention.”

Lieutenant Park was dumbfounded. “So you didn’t cheat.”

“No,” Hongjoong laughed, putting a hand to his mouth to quiet himself. “Do you want to play the six round version or...?”

“No thanks,” Park huffed, crossing his arms. That a pirate could beat him without cheating was somehow even more bothersome. “How did you even know all that about Byun?”

The senior lieutenant wasn’t exactly an open book when it came to his home life, no matter how observant the pirate was.

“The steward told me,” Hongjoong said, shivering and curling in on himself. It was impossible to trap any escaping warmth with his shackles blocking him.

“Are you cold?” The lieutenant asked, a note of hesitation lingering in his voice.

Hongjoong nodded sheepishly.

“I’ll get you some proper clothes, the midshipmen have extra.”

This was his chance.

Park stood and turned to head out the door, making it only two steps before Hongjoong was suddenly behind him, the chain that restrained him to the floor suddenly wrapped around the lieutenant’s neck.

He had to reach up quite a distance, so his aim wasn’t the most accurate, but he took the seconds he had bought before his legs gave out to demand in a low voice, “The Surgeon said one of the princes was here before he knocked me out— which one was it?”

“The... younger prince... Seonghwa, I think?” Park gasped out. “Listen, I’m willing to talk, this isn’t necessary.”

But it didn’t matter anymore. Hongjoong had hit the ground and shook now even harder. “He’s... alright?”

“Yes,” Park answered, scooping up the blanket again and throwing it around the prisoner. The clothes would have to wait. “Why, did you think something happened?”

“The Haemin attack,” Hongjoong explained, shaking his head. “He was in the square when the explosion happened, I-I couldn’t be sure... Lieutenant, I don’t know where or how any of my crew are— they could be dead for all I know!”

“Well, the prince is very much alive,” Park assured, trying to quiet him. “And he’s well enough that he decided to throw himself into more action than he was getting in the palace.”

“He’s here,” Hongjoong repeated as it hit him full force. “He was right here and we missed each other...”

“It was orders,” Park shrugged, putting away the cards. “And by the way, the Admiral will skin me alive if he catches a whiff of this, so let’s pretend it never happened.”

“But why did he come to the Black Crow?” Hongjoong continued to ask questions, a low-burning panic nestled in his eyes.

“It seems he requested to,” the lieutenant answered with a sigh, hoping it would satisfy the pirate enough to change topics. “Admiral Kim was quite put out at first when the correspondance reached us.”

“No, that’s impossible,” Hongjoong scoffed, running his hands through his hair and ignoring the jangle of the chains. “He’d never willingly help Kim, not after what he did... he just wouldn’t...”

“Hongjoong.”

The prisoner looked up in surprise at Lieutenant Park using his name.

“Things have... changed,” he explained gently. “Since the attack at Namhae, since the beginning of the war. The world has become a different place.”

Hongjoong’s eyes filled with moisture and he glanced at that small patch of blue he could see through the porthole. “Please let me go to the window,” he begged once more, ignoring how his voice cracked with bitterness.

Lieutenant Park tensed and considered the request. It could be an escape attempt, he shouldn’t allow it...

In fact, he should’ve left the pirate to his misery hours ago, but the longing in his eyes to just taste the sea air again struck him to his core.

Quickly he pulled Hongjoong up and supported him from behind, moving to the small window and watching him reach through it, extending his arm as far as it could go and feeling the gentle spray of the waves, resting his forehead on the sill. There was a deep connection there, one Park couldn’t hope to understand yet.

“That’s Panhang,” Hongjoong suddenly said, pulling his arm back in to peer closer at the coastline.

As Park watched him closely, he could only shake his head.

It was no longer a question of which of them would give in.

Now it was a matter of how long he had before everyone found out.

As Hongjoong gazed at the shores of a land he’d long left behind, he hoped with everything in him that his friends were out there somewhere.

Now all he needed to do was get to them.

...

Far away, a disillusioned naval officer was dealing with the wishes of his parent after a summons to the head navigator’s study. There was no way for him to continue to pretend to be in Doljeon when the prince himself had reportedly left the palace.

“You think after everything that man did to me, that I’d willingly work for him?”

The father leaned against his mahogany desk for support and entreated his son to think rationally as he once had.

“You wouldn’t be on the Crow, maybe an escort ship. Once you’ve earned trust and accolades, perhaps then you can take over my position.”

“Has it occurred to you that I don’t _want_ your position?” Yeosang hissed back. “It’s always been about what _you_ want.”

“There is a chance, Yeosang, to save your reputation,” Father shot back sternly. “Follow orders like I raised you to and maybe you’ll find yourself enjoying navy life.”

“When are you going to cut your losses and realise I’m not the person you raised anymore,” Yeosang sighed, shaking his head. There really was no way out of this one.

“This isn’t a debate, Yeosang,” the head navigator snapped. “If you won’t take your commission willingly, I’ll put you up for the draft, and I can guarantee you won’t prefer hard labour on the big warships to the job I’m asking you to do.”

The longer Yeosang looked at his father, the less he felt like he knew him.

“I’m not the only one who’s changed,” he choked out through bitter tears, before turning to go, accepting his fate. “Mother would be ashamed of you.”

He didn’t look to see his father’s reaction, wandering instead to the main sitting room and gazing at that portrait of his parents that sat above the fireplace.

It was all he had left of his mother. And even now, he had no idea what she would think. But if she was anything as fair and kind as everyone said she was, surely she would disapprove of Father.

Surely she would desire her son to be free to choose for himself, even if that meant taking a different path than the one laid out before him from the day of his birth.

Yeosang hoped she would at least forgive him.

Taking one last look, he walked to his room to pack everything he would need by himself.

Their secret guests needed to be informed of the change in plans, so Yeosang crept to the hidden room he had successfully relocated everyone to and explained the situation.

“Father and I are both leaving, with no certainty of when we’ll return, but the staff know you’re here and will continue to care for you secretly or deliver you wherever you need to go, I’ve ensured it. For now... I’m afraid this is goodbye.”

“You’ve done more for us than we could’ve ever asked,” Yechan thanked him quietly. “Be careful out there.”

“I will,” Yeosang promised. “Someone be sure to give Yuma extra carrots for me, and if I never return... feel free to do whatever you like with the place.”

It was fitting, he thought as he watched his father’s carriage leave for Panhang and a rendezvous with the Crow through the window. Letting the young boys whose backs men like his father had built their careers on run amok through his priceless mansion.

Soon, his own carriage to Kon arrived and he turned his thoughts to the sea.

Secretly, he preferred it to being locked up at the estate. It was a chance to be informed of what was happening in the world. But at the same time, he had promised Seonghwa to return to him, and this was an order to sail the opposite direction.

Yeosang sighed and handed the footmen his bags. He’d just arrived from Kon and now he was going back. There was no use being upset about it, the driver wouldn’t leave without him- his father’s orders.

He spent the ride drafting up another letter to Seonghwa. His father wouldn’t tell him where the prince had gone, but surely King Junhee would pass the letter along when it reached the palace. The golden seal of the Kang family was still good for something.

Kon was mostly emptied when he arrived this time, only a few escort ships waiting for deployment, one of them being the Indeok, the ship to which Yeosang was assigned as navigator.

First Lieutenant Yoo Dojoon greeted him formally and handed him off to a lower-ranking Lieutenant Jung to be shown around. The man still looked relatively young despite the facial hair and as he muttered about having to do all the work something in his manner seemed familiar.

Even the curve of his nose looked like one Yeosang recognised, but not until he had given the captain their heading and been settled into a cabin of his own with some maps to look over did he realise what it was.

The man had looked like Wooyoung for a moment.

Yeosang sighed and put away his work, blowing out the candle and falling into his hammock, trying not to let his thoughts fixate on times past.

Wooyoung was fine. He was out there somewhere, hopefully with San and the others, far from the war and the Admiral’s ruthless conquests.

Yeosang would be fine, too. As long as he didn’t think about the Admiral he’d soon be escorting, that same man who’d had them chained, starved, beaten, and interrogated and who he was now supposed to respect and support like none of it had happened.

Everything was fine.

...

The night was not as calm as Seonghwa had hoped.

He escaped from a nightmare where he drowned again and again, slipping through Junhee’s fingers every time he tried to save him and woke to what seemed like a dream— until he realised the redhead sleeping in the bed across the room was Mingi, not Hongjoong.

The hour was early, but the prince needed some space and fortunately, Seonghwa knew exactly where to go.

The moment he walked out on deck he found someone waiting for him, and he was inclined to roll his eyes and ignore him, but Yujin blocked his path to the galley and sank to his knees in front of him.

“Seonghwa sir... I mean, Your Highness,” he began shakily. “I’m telling the truth, we did as we were told.”

Seonghwa pressed his lips together because he knew now that it was true. That didn’t mean he liked it.

“And if it means anything to you,” Yujin added, lowering his head. “I’m sorry for your loss. It wasn’t only yours.”

He was right. Seonghwa wasn’t the only one effected by the events on Namhae, and now that he was back, he had others to support, too. Including the crew that had waited here, wondering if any of their officers were ever coming back.

Seonghwa placed a hand on Yujin’s shoulder and brought him back to his feet.

“I’m sorry, too. For leaving and- and doubting and attacking you.” He sighed at his own recklessness. His own aimlessness. “I was just angry. It won’t happen again.”

Yujin swallowed hesitantly but didn’t amble away like he usually did.

“How would you like to come cook breakfast with me?” Seonghwa suggested. A peace offering of sorts.

Yujin nodded and seemed to relax, following Seonghwa into the kitchen, where they fell easily into the familiar rhythm of preparing food, a wealth of which was available thanks to their being anchored in plentiful waters for fishing.

Yunho noted Seonghwa’s lingering distress when they were called to breakfast on the quarterdeck again for a breath of fresh air and opted to distract him with humour.

“I don’t think your brother the king would be pleased to have you gallivanting with pirates again,” he remarked with a smirk.

Seonghwa smiled back. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Sobering, he glanced at the shoreline and wondered what his brother would think. “Maybe one day I’ll send word so he knows I’m alive, but I have no intention of returning to do battle with the Admiral. Not until this war is finished and the people I love are safe.”

His confession prompted the question they’d all been thinking about since yesterday, this time voiced by Yujin. “What next?”

Glares from around the breakfast table landed on Yujin for raising the question. “Someone had to ask.”

In unison, they sighed and cleared away their meal. The ATEEZ had been anchored long enough. It was time to make some decisions.

“Here’s what we know,” Jongho said matter-of-factly. “The Black Crow is anchored not far from here and we could run into her at any moment. It’d probably be best to leave soon.”

“The Crow is here,” Seonghwa repeated aloud. Of course, he knew this, but as he continued to think about it he realised it was significant. “Kim is here at the moment instead of invading Haemin, which means the rest of the fleet will be gathering here as well, which means—”

“Less security on the islands!” Mingi gasped, quickly picking up his train of thought. “There won’t be half as many men as there were before, we could easily sail east again.”

“Maybe even free Maddox,” Yunho added, excited. “It’ll be good to have some allies, don’t you think?”

Seonghwa nodded firmly. “Sailing east, saving friends, re-establishing the pirate havens— I can think of no better future for the ATEEZ than that. Are we all in agreement?”

The three voiced their assent eagerly, and Yujin went to tell the men.

This was what the vessel had been made for, and rediscovering that purpose seemed to clear the way for their destiny again.

“He’d approve,” Mingi sighed as he took the wheel and watched the sails unfurl. Out of all the things they’d done since returning, this one felt right.

And so in Hongjoong’s name, they turned east, away from the harbour where he was already anchored, chained to a ship they wanted nothing to do with.

...

The morning chill brought a new tension to the decks of the Black Crow.

Admiral Kim looked out his tall crystal clear windows at the rocky coastline and its lighthouse beacon with displeasure.

Lieutenant Byun was standing awkwardly by the door with ill news.

“I honestly have no idea where he went. He’s not on board, he wasn’t in town at the market or the inn— it’s as if he simply disappeared.”

Kim huffed through his nose and glared at the glass in front of him. “He could’ve hitched a ride here _without_ making me look like a fool.”

There was no clear solution, to hunt down Prince Seonghwa would cost them time they should be spending on travel to the trade routes where Haemin was wreaking havoc.

“Navigator Kang has arrived,” Byun continued with a sigh. “I’ve put him up in your cabin assuming the prince doesn’t return to claim it. Other than his absence, everything is ready to go.”

“Leave him then,” Kim ordered, shooing the lieutenant away.

He had things to attend to, he’d have to carry out his plans concerning the prince another way.

...

Wooyoung flexed his fingers a few times in between pulling cannons back and forth to be cleaned. It was early in the morning and they were still too close to the coast to expect action, but the mindless busywork their masters set them to was no stranger to the former powder monkey.

So much pulling wasn’t conducive to the healing of his broken hand, and he could practically hear San scolding him for it, but there was hardly any pain, and if anything, the injury had made him stronger.

Curious where the fleet was going even as he despaired sailing farther and farther away from San, he cornered his brother in a quiet lower deck hallway and asked about their heading.

“Navigator Kang finally came aboard so we could go,” Woosung huffed, still uncomfortable with the furtiveness of it all. “You’ll have to ask him what the destination is.”

“Wooyoung?”

The voice interrupting them was so familiar, it sent Wooyoung spinning around to see none other than the navigator himself, staring with amazement in his eyes at the unbelievable coincidence that crossed their paths once again.

Of course. Navigator Kang, the second.

“Yeosang!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a month... regrettably :,) School has been a lot and this chapter was tricky for a few reasons but I hope you’re still enjoying it and willing to stick around for the next, whenever it comes around! (You might want to do a quick review, because all our boys are on ships now- The ATEEZ, The Black Crow, The Indeok, and The Paragon- which means, inevitably, it’ll be easy to get confused. Bear with me!) Don’t forget to kudos and comment <3 ttyl


	5. Return to the Maze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Assuming he escaped the Crow, what then? Assuming he miraculously found the ATEEZ, what would he do next?
> 
> Would things just go back to normal?

Usually Jongho would be suspicious of such consistent good weather, but for now he was simply grateful that the sea goddess had blessed their journey with clear skies and fair winds.

They were moving much faster than they had been last time they visited Maddox’s Island, despite travelling in a very roundabout way, and they had a rescue plan in place. Knowing the territory better the second time had its advantages.

When the sails were squared away and the crew could relax some, Jongho found himself in the captain’s cabin once again.

It had become the regular location for all their gatherings the past few weeks, something about occupying the space lending them confidence in their decisions.

Unsurprisingly, Mingi, Yunho, and Seonghwa were already there. Mingi and Yunho were in a quiet conversation off to the side, sorting through the remaining stacks of gleaming treasure, while Seonghwa sat on his bed reading something.

Naturally, Jongho was curious, and moved to peek over the eldest’s shoulder to catch a glimpse of what it was.

“This is Hongjoong’s...” he realised with a frown, combing over handwritten text that detailed their adventures from the birth of the ATEEZ onwards.

At the mention of Hongjoong’s name, Mingi and Yunho perked up and moved closer, pushing the gold aside. “That was his mother’s diary,” Mingi remarked in a quiet voice when he recognised the book from an encounter years ago, reaching forward and flipping back to the beginning. A wave of nostalgia broke over the group. “He just continued it with his own story.”

Seonghwa nodded and went back to the section he was reading. Events that had taken place before he joined them.

“Did he say anything about me?” Mingi said a moment later, clearing his throat nervously.

“Just that you’re loyal and attentive, and sometimes he thinks back to those days when it was just the two of you on the beach and realises those were the happiest moments of his childhood,” Seonghwa answered, reading off a page from over a year ago.

“Is there any mention of me in there?” Jongho asked quietly, masking his nerves by clearing his throat. He didn’t know what he was expecting to hear, but he hoped it was pleasant.

Seonghwa smiled softly and flipped until he found the passage of Jongho’s entry into the story.

“At first, I thought he was older than me,” he read in a soft voice. “Not from his looks or his manner, but his eyes. They’re the eyes of someone who has seen horrible things, and as soon as I saw them I wanted him to join us. I want to see light in those eyes, not just darkness.”

Tears gathered and Jongho slowly sat down and let the words wash over him. Some of that darkness lingered, and it felt like failure.

“See, he’s always loved you,” Seonghwa reassured the younger boy, who shook his head and chuckled in disbelief.

“Well, he met me in the middle of a nightmare, of course he took me in, I prophesied it...”

“But he didn’t bring you onboard because he thought you were useful,” Mingi interrupted firmly. “He did it because he thought you belonged here.”

Jongho pulled his knees up to his chest. It was chilling to think about, but from this side of the event, that sudden decision had been the right one.

“What was his first impression of me?” Yunho piped up. Seonghwa was already turning to the pages that chronicled their introduction and began to read without hesitation.

“Mingi says I’m ‘collecting’ people, but I prefer to think of it as taking a chance on a likeminded individual. Perhaps the ATEEZ is Yunho’s second chance at life, the way it’s also become mine.”

A beat passed in agreement as they considered how true it was for all of them. Mingi nudged Yunho as if to remind him what he had said himself on the beach just yesterday.  _ Everything happens for a reason. _

“How about you, did he have much to say?” Mingi smirked, turning to Seonghwa and already anticipating pages of lengthy prose.

Seonghwa rolled his eyes fondly and shook his head.

“Oh, something about me being a thorn in his side, and plenty of other things from back then that he said to my face besides. Not much flattery, at least not until we reached an understanding. ‘I’ve never tasted fish seasoned so well in my life, a significant feat to have accomplished’.”

Together, they laughed at what Hongjoong appeared to consider high praise.

“He worried about me a lot,” Seonghwa frowned, sobering as he thumbed the pages. “I suppose I have been injured frequently, and I’m not one for combat. Even in such a private book, he shares his true thoughts very sparingly. But there  is a passage in here that I think he’d want us to read— all of us, together. It feels like a message from beyond the grave. He wrote it that day we spent on the treasure island from what I can discern.”

The three of them pressed closer to look over Seonghwa’s shoulder, even as he read in a soft voice the words that were written in secret.

_ I’m ashamed to record it, but I must have done something to make Seonghwa convinced I want him gone. I’ll admit, I’ve kept my distance and concealed my thoughts on the subject, but I don’t know what I’ll do if he leaves me alone. I’ve come to realise in this safe haven, far away from the ghosts and shadows that lurked at every corner, that I need him. _

_ I broke my most important rule, to never fully trust anyone, because even the most unlikely can betray you. He decided to try and patch up the hole in my heart and without even knowing it, I’ve started depending on people again. _

_ A feeling wells up inside when I see the faces of those who have become so much more than friends to me. No matter how hard I fight it down, it’s there consuming me until I admit the truth behind why I fight every fight that comes my way when I’m so, so tired of trying. _

_They’re my family. I love them so much, it hurts, and if I could hold onto all seven of them forever, I would do it. There’s no guarantee we’ll ever be whole again when we set out from this place, and I should never have invested so much of myself in them, but I was defenceless and if I have to have one weakness— let it be this group of brightly shining stars who guide me to better places, even as they think I’m the one guiding them. Let it be this twinkling treasure I’ve found, the value of which can never be compared with all the riches in the world._

_They’re everything to me. Until all our debts are settled, they’ll never know,_ _but one day I’ll have the courage to tell them._

_ When I’m with you, I’m home. _

The silence after was almost reverent. Like they’d been communicating with the dead, the group dare not breathe for fear of disturbing the moment.

“We knew,” Yunho finally whispered, voice thick with emotion. “We knew without being told.”

Jongho glanced over at him and slung an arm around his waist, pulling him further in to their warm little huddle.

“Hey,” he chuckled wetly. “Now he  _ has _ told us.”

The contemplative silence was broken by a knock on the door and Yoojin’s appearing head.

“What is it?” Mingi demanded, quickly wiping his eyes and returning to his cool professionalism.

Yoojin tensed and tilted his head toward the window. A familiar island shrouded in mist had grown closer while they were distracted with the past. It was time to move on.

“We’re here.”

...

Establishing an exercise regimen after a serious injury was always difficult, but doing so in secret in the cramped belly of a navy warship was much more difficult, Hongjoong found.

There were moments here and there on their voyage southeast to respond to enemy ship sightings that the lucky prisoner wasn’t guarded in the business and activity of the day, which he used to his full advantage.

It was always better to trick the opponent into thinking he had him down for longer than he actually was.

Gingerly, Hongjoong lowered himself down from where he’d been hanging from a ceiling support beam and pulling his weight up and down for as long as he could, smiling at his own perfect timing and then wiping the expression clean before the steward entered with the morning meal.

He wasn’t in the shape he wanted to be in yet, but he felt marginally less useless this way.

“Chowder again?” Hongjoong beamed teasingly and sat up straight as Doh scooped up some of the soup and waited for the prisoner to open his mouth again.

“No complaining,” the steward muttered as he spooned the food in carefully. “You’re worse than the men. I told them and now I’m telling you; we’re at sea now, with no idea how long the food will have to last. No more delicacies until landfall.” His chastising sounded like Seonghwa’s, and suddenly Hongjoong needed to change the subject again.

“Let me do it,” he insisted with his mouth still full, swallowing and repeating himself until the steward relinquished the spoon.

Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t manage to get the slop onto the spoon and the spoon up to his mouth without help, and immediately his mood was soured.

“Don’t be upset,” the man scolded him softly when tears gathered. “You’re healing still.”

The reality was that exerting himself immediately before the meal was certainly not helping him control his own limbs and his own exasperation was making him quit before he should have.

“Steward.” Hongjoong gave him a look and sat back. “I managed to sail alone over five thousand nautical miles in a boat I built with my bare hands, whilst wounded and starving, as an eighteen year old, and came back  _ stronger _ . Forgive me for being frustrated if I can’t lift a spoon without my hands shaking.”

Doh gave him a once over before placing the bowl to the side and offering his advice.

“If that’s the case, you may want to consider whether your problem is physical or psychological.”

Hongjoong scoffed, but the creeping suspicion in the back of his head was inclined to agree. “What, are you saying I don’t  _ want _ to get better?”

“I’m saying I think you’re scared,” the steward explained after a hesitant pause. “Of what might happen when you do.”

It had been months since he’d seen a friendly face. More importantly, since any of his friends had seen him alive.

Assuming he escaped the Crow, what then? Assuming he miraculously found the ATEEZ, what would he do next?

Would things just go back to normal?

No, they thought he was gone— they thought he was  _ dead _ . Things would never just go back to normal.

Presumably, they had moved on... without him.

Silent for the remainder of the meal, Hongjoong let the steward feed him and thought about what kind of changes that Park mentioned might have taken place.

Surely nothing too drastic... nothing that would cost him his friends...

If Seonghwa was alright, he must be looking out for the others. That much, Hongjoong could be sure of.

The steward, too, was quiet as he gathered his things and made to leave. Hongjoong stopped him just before he reached the door.

“Why are you helping me?”

This wasn’t the first time Hongjoong had needed to charm the pants off someone to get away with his plans, but despite the steward’s kindness, he was clearly a shrewd man who knew much more than he let on.

“The Admiral will need you in good shape,” he answered readily, but there was something in his eyes that told Hongjoong he had him exactly where he wanted him. Time to start making his move.

“Can you do me a favour, Steward?”

Doh cocked his head but his face didn’t change. He was open to suggestion.

“Perhaps.”

“Keep the surgeon away from me,” Hongjoong nearly whispered. If the surgeon came back intending to conduct experiments on him, he’d very quickly lose any surprise fitness and it would be back to square one.

The steward narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“He... makes me uncomfortable.”

That much was both believable and true. And so the steward bowed his head in agreement and left the room, and Hongjoong was left to lay back and exhale slowly.

He had gained an ally.

When the steward reached the quarterdeck, bundled against the winter winds bearing down on them, Admiral Kim was waiting for a report from him.

“Can he walk?”

Doh paused to decide how much to tell his captain, then smoothly delivered a half-truth.

“With help.”

“Bring him to the quarterdeck,” Kim ordered, eyes cast on the horizon with a sickening air of immense confidence. “I want to see what he’s worth.”

...

Like an ocean wave crashing into the shore, Wooyoung threw himself into Yeosang’s arms.

Not until he was assured that he wasn’t dreaming did he withdraw from the embrace. “How are you here?”

“I was assigned as navigator,” Yeosang explained, laughing in amazement. “The better question is how  _ you _ ended up here. Weren’t you looking for San?”

All the air went out of Wooyoung and he hunched in on himself, the action cautioning Yeosang to tread lightly. “I was tracking him,” Wooyoung admitted quietly. “But I was pressganged onto this bucket of bolts with no way off in the foreseeable future—”

He was interrupted by Woosung clearing his throat. Having forgotten he was there, Wooyoung beckoned him over with a sigh for introductions.

“Yeosang, my brother Woosung.”

If Yeosang had been amazed earlier, he was astonished now. “The same brother you always talked about?”

“You talked about me?” Woosung teased with a wicked grin on his face for once. Wooyoung jabbed him in the ribs and nudged Yeosang into the wardroom so they could catch up in peace. 

“I’ve been meaning to escape,” he told him quickly. “So it’s a good thing we ran into each other when we did. Now we can work together.”

“Except for the fact that we don’t know where we’ll end up,” Yeosang pointed out as he sunk into a chair. “I’m not keen on running straight into enemy territory.”

“Unless San is there,” Wooyoung corrected him quickly.

“It’s still suicide,” Yeosang warned softly. “All I know for now is that we accompany the Crow from Panhang to intercept the Haemin fleet.”

“The Black Crow,” Wooyoung groaned as he was reminded, pulling up a chair opposite Yeosang. “What if the Admiral sees us? Don’t you think he’ll jump at the opportunity to kill us off? It shouldn’t be too difficult to frame as a casualty of war. I say we jump ship before we reach Panhang.”

“He won’t while my father is with him,” Yeosang insisted. “Father may hate me but he doesn’t want me dead, that would mean the end of his family name.”

Wooyoung thought back to the last night they’d seen one another, the lantern light bouncing off gentle waves in the harbour, the dark scowl on the Head Navigator’s face.

“How... how have things been between you?” He asked hesitantly, not expecting anything good.

“It’s over between us,” Yeosang scoffed. “I’m not speaking to him unless I have to.”

And hopefully, that day would never come.

“Wooyoung, I...” Yeosang began again after a companionable moment of silence. “I have bad news.” There was no point in putting it off.

His voice was witheringly soft, and he looked like the slightest noise could put him over the edge.

Under the table, Wooyoung’s legs began to shake. Not trusting his voice, he simply nodded for Yeosang to go on.

“I went to see Seonghwa’s coronation at the palace, and he told me about the execution. He told me, well... he heard that...”

“Hongjoong’s dead, isn’t he?”

Because if Wooyoung couldn’t say it out loud, he would never begin to accept it.

Yeosang simply exhaled shakily and inclined his head ever so slightly like the weight of the world was upon his shoulders. He didn’t want to accept it either.

Wooyoung knew he had pessimistic leanings due to his upbringing, but there had remained a spark of hope in him. When he considered how many people the information came to him through, or when he considered Hongjoong’s own confidence that he would make it out alive... it didn’t seem possible that he could live in a world where this was the truth.

He couldn’t live in a world without him.

The feeling that rushed in on receiving the confirmation of his worst fears, fears that he had pushed to the far corner of his mind to avoid dealing with, was a strange and disquieting mixture of pain, loss, and relief.

Relief that he could drop his head into his hands and shake with tears without being bothered for it. Relief that he was no longer waiting on bad news to catch up with him all while running away from it. Relief that he wouldn’t have to deliver such news himself.

“How could this happen...”

Such an undignified end after everything he’d survived already. Wooyoung wished he had been there.

“I don’t know,” came the hushed and helpless answer. “I can only hope Mingi, Yunho, Jongho, and San are safe and far away from this war like Hongjoong wanted them to be.”

Hongjoong had told them to save themselves, and they had ended up on a warship anyway.

Those agonising days in the prison at Namhae drifted back into memory while Wooyoung dried his eyes. 

The wind on the beams continued to blow while Yeosang settled down, gently taking Wooyoung’s hands in his and inspecting them. There was a cold emptiness inside now that the message had been relayed.

“You’ve healed,” he noticed aloud, voice soft yet discernable over the outside gusts. 

Wooyoung nodded and shifted to get a better look at his friend. “Have you?”

Yeosang startled and almost pulled away, but Wooyoung kept his grip on him. “I— yes, you know I did. Nothing was broken.”

Still he couldn’t escape Wooyoung’s knowing eyes. Not after everything they’d been through.

“I’ll be fine,” he insisted after a moment. That much he could promise, now that they’d found each other. 

...

The ever present fog made it difficult, but Yunho kept his eyes peeled for ships. Regardless of what colours they were flying, they were enemies, and that meant caution was of the utmost importance.

The plan was relayed to the men who waited, ready to cast off at a moment’s notice, and the four officers set out for the beach. The maze would be a hindrance to deal with, but it was better than docking at the town on the other side of the island and potentially being spotted by soldiers.

The shore batteries had been bombarded by Mingi’s counterattack on their last visit, which made them a perfectly unsuspecting vantage point to keep watch from.

Jongho scaled the stone steps of the bell tower, half of which was decimated, and borrowed Yunho’s spyglass. “I’ll put up a flag if I see anything,” he assured them. “No flares. Don’t want to give away our position.”

Although loath to leave him alone, it was best to finish the mission quickly, so the other three hurried down to the tree line and fought their way through the vines until they reached the entrance to the maze.

“Far right path,” Mingi instructed immediately, remembering how Hongjoong said he got in last year. The maze was only slight less well kept than it had been in Seonghwa and Yunho’s memory, occasional branches jutting out at awkward angles and bush roots stretching across their path. 

It sent a strangle tingle down their spines to return to such a memorable and significant place under wildly different circumstances.

The wrought iron gate was unlocked but closed when they reached it, and Seonghwa rested his hand on the bars before pushing gently and hoping it wouldn’t squeak. Eyes widening, Seonghwa suddenly threw his arm out and pressed back into the shrubbery. Yunho and Mingi followed, confused but obedient, until he explained.

“Soldiers in the courtyard.”

“Now what?” Yunho groaned. “We can’t risk gunfire if we don’t know how many are inside.”

“There should be a secret library somewhere on the third floor,” Mingi wracked his brain for a solution and took a step back to scan the building in front of them again. The top was just visible over the towering greenery.

“There!” He exclaimed, grabbing Seonghwa’s arm. “A sunroof. We can rappel down.”

Seonghwa sighed but nodded, watching intently and waiting for the soldiers to go back inside for dinner. 

It was only about ten minutes, but it felt like longer. Listening to their idle conversation was mildly amusing until the men dropped off into silence, but soon they had shut themselves into their hall and the courtyard was free.

“Here,” Yunho grunted, throwing the rope until it latched on to a ceiling tile and handing it to Mingi, who looked surprised. “You suggested it!” 

Begrudgingly, Mingi grasped the rope in his hands and began to climb, Yunho and Seonghwa following silently.

They had to mind the windows, but made it onto the roof safely, Mingi popping open the sunroof panel and securing the rope to the inner latch while he waited.

After a thorough scan of the inside, what appeared to be a bedroom, all three lowered themselves stealthily, only breaking face when a figure in the room startled and tipped over in his reading chair.

“Maddox? It’s alright, we’re friends of Hongjoong’s!” Mingi panted, holding out his hand. 

“Mingi?” The older man hissed in disbelief as he peeled out from behind the chair.

“Yes, it’s me. We’re here to rescue you.”

...

“It’s Lucky.”

“Look! There he goes.”

“The lucky prisoner...”

Hongjoong ignored the hushed whispers all over the main deck and the way the freezing wind nipped at his nose, but tilted back his head and let it toss his hair. It didn’t matter what they said.

Even a sea breeze that stung your cheeks was a sea breeze, and no one could take the moment away from him.

Byun was at his elbow, a guilty sort of tension emanating from him as he guided the prisoner up to the quarterdeck where Admiral Kim stood and looked down his nose at the both of them. A man Hongjoong assumed was Head Navigator Kang stood to his left. From his familiar features and general air of displeasure, he had a feeling he was correct.

“So I hear you need my help,” Hongjoong smirked, voice quiet but deadly.

Kim just scowled at him, white-rimmed lips pressed firmly together until he snatched the charts from Navigator Kang, rolling them open and casting his eyes away.

“Our spies report mass shipbuilding behind Haemin borders, but none of our fleet have encountered more than two ships at a time,” Kim explained, indicating the locations of the attacks on the map.

They were all lined up along the trade routes, concentrated to the east around the rim of the nearest Jaecho colonies. 

As Hongjoong moved to get a closer look, he enjoyed the way the Admiral visibly became irritated by the jangle of his chains.

He was no longer bolted to the floor but his arms were still restrained and as much as Kim was annoyed by the sound, he wasn’t stupid enough to unlock the cuffs and risk an escape attempt.

“Their strategy is to wear you out with unpredictable strikes along the islands,” Hongjoong surmised as he inspected the charts. “If one ship goes down, it’s replaced by another. They won’t form ranks like you, they’re much more... surreptitious.”

“Then why focus on the colonies? They made it all the way to the capital once, why not march in again?” Kim bit out, yanking the map back over to his side of the table. Kang gently collected it, as if afraid in his anger the Admiral might shred the thing.

“To spread you thin. To wear you out, starve you, frustrate you,” Hongjoong listed off. “Safe access to trade routes and supplies is vital— I should know!” After all, he was usually the person disrupting them.

“So you’re saying we should engage their puny boats in the east instead of strike their homeland and end the war in one fell swoop?” Kim challenged, stepping closer and waiting for the prisoner to back down.

He didn’t.

“Unless you want to lose your territory, yes.”

The two stared each other down and no one else dared move, not even the anxiously hovering Byun whose idea the entire encounter was, until a bird appeared on the horizon and landed atop the rigging, a case attached to its leg.

Lieutenant Park climbed up to retrieve it and handed it to the Navigator, ending the standoff.

“A messenger bird with correspondence. A convoy of Haemin ships has been sighted just south of the colonies,” Kang reported, passing the scroll to the Admiral. Not even glancing at Hongjoong, he began orders.

“We have the heading, it’s time to move.”

There was a suppressed exhilaration that bubbled up inside Hongjoong when the Crow went underway.

It was that feeling he missed, when there’s one rope between you and the ocean— you and death.

He was joined by Park while he stood at the railing, reaching his chained hands down to feel what misty spray he could.

“What is it?” Hongjoong finally asked when the lieutenant had gone an uncharacteristic full five minutes without talking.

“I saw it in the correspondence...” he muttered nervously, eyes on the Admiral’s back to make sure he wasn’t paying attention. “Our enemies aren’t just interrupting trade and taking over island colonies.”

Hongjoong pulled back and looked at him, confused. Park was shaking his head helplessly but delivered the bad news nonetheless.

“They think Prince Seonghwa is with us, and they’re looking for him, to- to kill him.”

...

Due to the trust he had gained on the Haemin ship over the past few weeks, San almost felt sad to be leaving them soon.

Almost.

When land was only a few hours off, he concocted a sleeping draught with supplies from the infirmary and told his translator it was medicine for a patient. It was a strong enough brew to knock out his guards long enough for him to swim to shore.

Regardless of how he felt about his imprisonment, San wasn’t a monster. He ensured that all his patients were cared for in the meantime, working tirelessly to lower fevers, hack off limbs, and clean wounds. They would all survive in his absence, and he didn’t leave until he was sure of that fact.

Except for the loneliness, it almost felt like being home. Why he had ever considered leaving the ATEEZ back in the day was a mystery to him now. All that pain and regret from his previous trip to these parts had washed away long ago.

San didn’t know where along the road he’d lost his purpose, but he needed to return to the road to get it back, wherever it ended up taking him.

This cramped, stinking warship was  not the right place.

He had hoped for so long that his mysterious pursuer was Wooyoung, and that Wooyoung would find him. And then he had gone too far, farther than he could follow. If he was lucky, perhaps Wooyoung hadn’t given up on him yet.

Sudden noise from the main deck prompted him and his translator to join the soldiers outside.

“Land,” the man told him redundantly as they watched the speck grow larger.

San knew it well.

It was Maddox’s Island.

...

Introductions were quick, and without even knowing why, Maddox was instructed to pack his things as quickly as possible.

“Why didn’t you just use the door?” He scoffed as he shoved some loose change into a bag. “Hongjoong has been here once, he should’ve showed you.”

Silence penetrated the room and slowly Maddox turned around, noting his absence.

“Where is he, then? Hongjoong?”

“Killed by Admiral Kim,” Seonghwa told him, solemn and ice cold in his delivery. “A few months ago.”

Maddox needed to sit down again.

“But he— he wasn’t...” he shook his head to collect his thoughts. “He was on his way to find Eden, Kim should never have gotten his hands on him.”

“Actually...” Yunho sighed. “We  _ did _ find Eden. We were on our way back to the mainland because of Babylon, who I think you’ll remember.”

Maddox’s face darkened, even as his eyes betrayed his distress, like he didn’t know who to blame for this. “You came here for  _ me? _ ” He suddenly realised, brows raising halfway to his hairline in shock.

“It’s what he would have wanted,” Seonghwa explained. “We’re breaking out as many of his friends as we can find and starting fresh far away from the Navy.”

“Well, I certainly won’t keep you waiting,” the older pirate scoffed before collecting a few more of his things and glancing at the rope still hanging from the ceiling. “I suppose that’s also our way out.”

“The soldiers won’t spot us that way,” Mingi explained as Yunho and Seonghwa headed up, motioning for Maddox to follow and then bringing up the rear. With practiced ease, they descended the side of the tower and made their way across the courtyard.

“We make for your ship?” Maddox asked in a whisper.

Mingi nodded. “It would be ideal to get out of here without anyone even knowing.”

Just as he finished speaking, the boom of gunfire blasted to their right near Jongho’s position. Mingi grasped his gun and searched frantically for the decimated bell tower.

A red flag was hanging.

“So stupid,” he chided himself through gritted teeth. “How could I forget to check?”

Before anyone could stop him, he barrelled ahead and raced to the tower, hoping against hope that he would reach Jongho in time.

The disorienting fogginess of the maze slowed him down significantly, and by the time he reached the shore there was an unconscious Jongho, being dragged away by enemy soldiers.

“Hey!” Mingi screamed across the beach, aiming his weapon. “Let him go and I won’t kill you.”

The soldiers looked surprised to see him and debated with each other in a foreign language. Mingi realised with a jolt that they were from Haemin. He clicked off the safety but hesitated.

_ I should just shoot now. _

Jongho had been dropped in the sand and Mingi’s hairs stood on end. Where were the others? Had they fallen so far behind?

He was out of time.

Suddenly, one of the soldiers drew his gun and fired.

Unable to move completely out of the way in time, Mingi dodged to his right even as the searing pain of a bullet grazing his face sent him to the ground.

Blood was pouring into his eye, so all he could see was red that wilted into consuming black and the flashes of pulsating with pain.

Through his remaining eye, he watched Jongho be rowed away onto an enemy ship while he was left for dead.

...

San expected to be sent to his battle station where he could drug whoever happened to be guarding him at the time and slip away in the chaos.

Instead, he was led down to the brig again with some of the other prisoners to watch through the portholes as a pair of men rowed out to investigate the island themselves.

What he gathered from the others was that their captain thought the island looked to be deserted or destroyed in some other battle and assumed no one would be there. 

A very foolish move, one San should’ve expected from the incompetent drunkard. In this world, it should always be shoot first, ask questions later.

For a good half hour nothing happened, until a red flag went up in one of the bell towers and the action began in earnest.

To San, it was a relief.

Easily, he overpowered the guard and forced the draught down his throat, collecting the supplies he’d lain out in the infirmary while everyone was distracted, and preparing to lower himself in one of the longboats while the returning spies rushed their new prisoner on board.

Something deep inside told San to turn his head before he pulleyed down, and so he did. In a lightning flash, his heart dropped.

The unconscious body was Jongho’s. San didn’t know how or why, but it was him.

He didn’t question for a moment whether to abandon his plan. San threw off his bag and ran towards the chained figure.

Escape would have to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m very close to the finish line of the semester, so I’ll be back in my usual swing in the next week or so, no worries :) There’s some shifting going on in this chapter, and a lot of action is about to go down next time 👀 Stay tuned and let me know what you thought!! Happy birthday Wooyoung and Happy Thanksgiving ;)


	6. Friendly Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hongjoong knew in that moment exactly what the Admiral desired. He wanted him to go and die, and take as many Haemin soldiers with him as he could. If he survived it was on to the next battle, and then the next and the next after that until the world was the Admiral’s and Hongjoong was no longer useful, nothing more than a threat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw // blood and war violence

The sun was high and bright but still the winds whipping around the Indeok were numbingly cold.

It had been a few weeks since leaving Kon and finally they were meeting the Black Crow about halfway to the colonies. When Wooyoung wondered why, it fell once again to his brother to investigate for him.

“The Admiral has someone on board who knows the eastern waters better,” he explained in a hush voice while they stood on the main deck with everyone else, summoned to greet their eminent commander. “All Kim’s orders derive from the strategist’s expertise— Lucky, I think the men called him.”

“A special strategist?” Wooyoung scoffed. “Isn’t plotting courses supposed to be Navigator Kang’s job?”

“Look, I don’t question these things.” Woosung said testily. “Ask your sailing master friend, since he seems to know so much.”

Wooyoung scoffed and went to shove his brother for being jealous of Yeosang, but remembered they were in public and supposedly unacquainted, so refrained.

“I think I will do just that,” he whispered back before shuffling over to the stairs. Yeosang was always posted on the quarterdeck or in his cabin, observing the strict hierarchy that placed him above the common sailor, but he saw Wooyoung coming and moved to where he could speak quietly to him.

“Is there any merit to this?” Wooyoung asked when the captain wasn’t looking. “That someone else is calling the shots?”

“I doubt the Admiral would want it to be known if that was the case,” Yeosang argued, not turning around but keeping his eyes focused on the backs of his superiors. “But men will talk.”

The rest of the fleet was a day or so behind them, so the Indeok’s arrival was extremely fortunate. The northwestern colony of Kibo was on the horizon, and two Haemin ships were already lingering around it.

“Only two of them, true to form,” Lieutenant Yoo sighed from the quarterdeck in Yeosang’s general direction before calling for the anchor to be dropped.

The Indeok came to a halt alongside the Black Crow.

“Do any among you speak their language?” Came a familiar call from the decks of the warship.

Lieutenant Byun. 

Yeosang and Wooyoung both tensed and looked away, Wooyoung shrinking back and blending in with the soldiers on the main deck again. 

“I do,” Lieutenant Yoo spoke up. It explained why he was first lieutenant of the Indeok, if Yeosang thought about it. That was a skill that could come in handy.

He went to the rail and spoke for a moment with Byun before being lowered in a boat and rowing himself over to the Haemin ships. 

He was attempting to reach a settlement before they began fighting.

It was only good manners after all.

Predictably, he came back a few minutes later and resumed his post, reporting to Byun and the other Black Crow officers and allowing them to proceed with readying their cannons.

Wooyoung sighed and got to work. 

“Have you been in battle, Mr. Kang?”

The navigator startled and turned to bow to Yoo, who appeared to be addressing him.

“Not... Not quite like this.” He had dealt with his fair share of skirmishes and close calls all over the world in his travels, but this lieutenant didn’t need to know that.

“Fair,” the man sighed, and it pulled at Yeosang’s heart a little bit. From the looks of things, he was just another unwilling soldier. “I never thought we’d see war with Haemin in our time. The assassination was so unexpected. But we’ve got to make them pay, haven’t we?”

The final remark gave Yeosang pause.

There was no rallying cry. If not for Yoo Dojoon’s declaration, Yeosang would have no idea what they were fighting for.

For glory? For revenge? For the defence of lands they claimed as theirs?

“For peace,” he finally said. Because that was what he strived for at the end of the day.

Another gust of wind hit the quarterdeck hard and Yeosang gripped the railing even harder, pulling his coat closer around his shivering form.

“Oh, perfect,” Lieutenant Yoo groaned, pointing at the horizon.

Another ship had joined their enemy’s. 

Now they were outnumbered.

...

San fought to reach Jongho, and he fought hard.

They were yelling at him to get back, it was a phrase he’d heard enough times to deduce the meaning, and he struggled against them before finally going slack. There was no point in causing a scene if he and Jongho were going to end up in the same place anyway.

“He’s hurt, let me help him!” He screamed at his translator, whose face was set in a stern frown.

“He’s our enemy,” the officer reminded San calmly, before taking him by the arms and pulling him up. “Get back to the brig.”

San sent a forlorn glance in Jongho’s direction. He lay there, blood dripping from his head completely untended, while the soldiers fiddled with his chains, trying to make them tight enough.

They would have to be secure to hold Jongho.

 _“Now!”_ The translator snapped, pushing San back in the direction of the prison hold and smacking him over the head for good measure.

It was a much gentler slap than San had come to expect from these barbarians.

“How did you escape?” The man asked, clearly frustrated, as he chained San to the floor again. His vocabulary was expanding, just like San’s, a mutual benefit. San refused to answer and rather than press the matter, the officer simply sighed and got to his feet. “Ready for battle. We sail west.”

It was disappointing, because San had grown a bit of a soft spot for this translator, the only man on the ship with even the slightest bit of patience toward him, but a soft spot was no alliance.

It was a mistake.

He had his duties, and San had his.

A few minutes later, Jongho was dragged in and chained up right next to him. A small mercy, but an important one.

All San could do was dab at the blood with a ripped off section of fabric from his shirt, but after a couple of touches, Jongho awoke.

His eyes were unfocused and he looked to be in pain, but he tried to glance around and take in his surroundings.

“Oh, Jongho,” San cooed tenderly. The younger boy startled and took in a shaky breath. “You’re alright, you’re alright. I’ll take care of you.”

Jongho’s brow was furrowed, probably confused at how San could possibly be there with him. “What happened?” He croaked out hesitantly.

“You were in an explosion,” San explained. “I think you caught the Haemin soldiers off guard.”

He could tell exactly what had happened from Jongho’s wounds alone.

The tower had been blown, and he must have been facing a ledge on the other side, from the wounds around the crown of his head and the burns on the back of his arms. He seemed out of breath, too, likely from the fall.

“We’re prisoners, but at least we’re together,” he concluded.

Jongho’s eyes blew wide in sudden realisation. “Oh no... Seonghwa, Mingi, Yunho, and Maddox... they’ll be wondering what happened to me.”

San froze and turned back to the porthole. They were too far away from the island now to see if the ATEEZ was there. “You were with them? They’re alright?”

“Yes,” Jongho told him with a gentle smile. “We managed to find each other but _you_... San, we had no idea _what_ happened to you. I can’t believe you’ve been imprisoned on a Haemin ship this whole time.”

“Well, more or less. Please, Jongho,” San’s eyes brimmed with thankful tears. “Tell me everything.”

...

Yunho sprinted across the beach and gathered Mingi in his arms.

“They took him,” the redhead was crying, groaning even louder as Yunho hoisted him up onto his back and made for the ship. “No... you can’t... they took him, they took Jongho!”

“I know,” Yunho gritted out, seething as he watched a rowboat reach the enemy ship and running the other way nonetheless. “But you’ve been shot in the head, Mingi.”

No answer came from him, and so Yunho pushed harder for the ATEEZ. He was seeing red, whether from the droplets of blood hitting the sand or from the anger that clouded his senses, he didn’t know.

Maddox and Seonghwa halted their progress where they were rowing back to the ship and helped pull the listless Mingi and a worn out Yunho into the longboat.

“Pull for the ATEEZ, as fast as you can,” Yunho ordered the quiet Maddox, watching anxiously as Seonghwa’s shaking hands inspected the bloody mess that was Mingi’s face.

From the curse under his breath, Yunho assumed it was pretty bad.

“It must have been a glancing shot,” Seonghwa explained, pushing back Mingi’s hair to give the others a better view. “The bullet’s not here. I think it hit the edge of his face and ricocheted bone fragments into his eye.”

Yunho swallowed back bile. “Do you think he’ll lose his vision?”

Seonghwa shook his head helplessly and passed Mingi up to the crew members as they hauled the boat up to the deck. “I don’t know. We need someone more knowledgeable to take a look at him.”

They needed San. And this time they hadn’t the slightest clue to his whereabouts.

“Hanbyeol!” Seonghwa called breathlessly to the crew member as he carried Mingi down to the abandoned infirmary. “I need help getting the bone shards out!”

What followed was a long and frightening process Yunho could only sit through, looking on as the two of them painstakingly plucked each bone fragment out of Mingi’s face and did their best to cover the wound before he lost more blood.

Only when their patient awoke would they know if he had retained his vision.

“I’ll find him an eyepatch,” Yunho volunteered, feeling restless and wanting to do something with himself. 

Maddox snuck up on him while he rifled through spare fabric in the storerooms and gently tried to pry him away.

“Excuse me, sorry to interrupt but I need to ask for a heading.”

Of course, how could he have forgotten? Without Mingi taking care of it, Yunho supposed it was his responsibility. 

“Tell the helmsman to follow the Haemin ship,” he ordered succinctly and continued looking for an acceptable fabric.

Maddox cleared his throat, and before Yunho could ask why he was still there, he went on with some unsolicited advice. “Respectfully, I must advise against.”

Yunho rounded on him angrily. “I don’t care what you think, _respectfully_ , they captured Jongho so we’re hunting them down and taking him back.”

Maddox didn’t back down even a single step.

“Now isn’t the time for rash foolishness, it’s a prisoner of war ship, they’ll likely put him to work. He’s in no immediate danger.”

A breath for Yunho to work through what he was saying before he continued, “Mingi however, is. We need to make a strategic retreat.”

“Then how do you propose we find that ship again?” Seonghwa’s voice broke into their standoff, and both turned to see him standing in the doorway with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“It’s called the Paragon,” Maddox informed them both. “I got a good look at it while we rowed out. It’s turned west, likely for the colonies. When we’ve regrouped, we can look for it there. It’s your decision.”

Seonghwa shifted his gaze to Yunho with the question in his eyes, letting him speak for himself.

“Alright,” Yunho finally sighed. “Give the word, we turn east.” Maddox was on their side, he knew that. But the crushing defeat of gaining someone only to lose someone else weighed heavily on him.

Maddox slipped past Seonghwa to inform whoever was at the helm, and Yunho gave the prince another glance, wondering why he had ventured out of the infirmary. 

“It’s Mingi,” he sighed, and Yunho pocketed the fabric he had selected. “He’s awake.”

...

The third time Admiral Kim heard Navigator Kang clear his throat and shuffle his feet nervously, he finally looked up at him to see why.

“May I suggest we return Lucky to his quarters?” He muttered, motioning at their approaching escort ship with a stiff jerk of the head. “My son is on the Indeok.”

Kim glowered momentarily but gave his permission, signalling Byun to take care of it.

The first lieutenant approached Park and Hongjoong where they were still in quiet but intense conversation at the starboard rail.

Before he could direct the prisoner to somewhere less conspicuous, Hongjoong rounded on him.

“Is Prince Seonghwa still aboard this ship?” 

Lieutenant Byun cast a scolding glance at Lieutenant Park but addressed the prisoner coolly. “I need to get you below.”

_“Is he aboard this ship?”_

“He is not,” Byun muttered harshly, taking him by the arm and leading him to the upper gun deck. When they were out of the Admiral’s sights, he pulled Park aside to ask what the prisoner was going on about.

“I couldn’t hide it from him,” the lower lieutenant whined. “He knew the prince was aboard and now we’ve received word that Haemin is after him.”

“Keep it quiet,” Byun hissed before he headed back up to facilitate the Indeok as it joined them. “The last thing we need is the entire fleet thinking we’ve gone soft.”

Never mind the fact that it was true.

Park turned to where Hongjoong was staring at him and rolled his eyes. “You’re on the gun team for now I suppose. We’ve got to keep you away from prying eyes. _Don’t_ try anything.”

Hongjoong immediately suspected the Admiral’s reasons but didn’t remark on it while Park finally removed his chains.

“The tailwind is too strong, you should adjust the sails,” he said dryly instead.

“You can’t even feel the wind,” Park scoffed. “We’re belowdecks.”

But a gust from behind a moment later proved the pirate’s point.

“I’ll go inform the Admiral,” the lieutenant sulked and turned to go.

And so began the wait.

Hongjoong wished the Crow could enter battle the same way the ATEEZ once had; with persistent singing and shrouded in mystery.

There was no real advantage that came with charging headlong into combat when they’d already been seen, except for maybe the exploitation of any underlying fear the Haemin soldiers were harbouring towards the deadliest ship in Jaecho’s navy.

He glanced around the deck and calculated their odds. He was placed on the port side of the upper gun deck with a few dozen silent gunners and their short range cannons, trembling almost imperceptibly except to one who could see right through them.

They looked at “Lucky” with wavering eyes.

“Don’t panic, our chances are good,” he encouraged them firmly. “We’re bigger and better armed, plus we’ve got an escort ship for support. We can take whatever they give us.”

The Black Crow drifted closer to the colony and their odds lowered a bit. Battle so close to the shore was never good, and unless the helmsman knew Kibo like the back of his hand it could become a major problem.

They stopped just close enough to begin firing and Hongjoong waited for Byun’s order to come.

It was deathly quiet, with only the ghostly howl of the wind and the deep creaking of a colossal ship weathering the waves.

Then the order came.

“Fire at will!”

The boom of haphazard cannon blasts shook the deck and the gun teams stumbled back briefly before moving into formation.

They had each step of the process practiced and perfected, they only needed someone to tell them where to fire and when. So that was what Hongjoong did.

In the pause of reloading, the nearest Haemin ship finally shot off a volley. It was grapeshot, and judging from the screams that came from the upper decks, it had found its mark.

Their second round tore a hole in the enemy’s gun deck but wasn’t enough to sink the ship.

“Hit them below the water line!” Hongjoong yelled so that everyone facing the port side could hear over the screams and splashes of bodies falling into the sea. His orders went unquestioned, all the gunners immediately pointing their cannon muzzles down so that their shots did real damage.

“Hold your fire!” He called, raising his hand and keeping it midair while he waited for them to drift just a little further, so the enemy’s broadsides were in their sights. A hit to their bow would only cause them to list for awhile, so to fire at the right time could give them a decisive victory.

“Fire!”

In perfect synchronisation, fifty guns ripped a devastating hole in the side of their opponent and all the men on the deck cheered.

Its port quarter was sinking, but the Black Crow’s helmsman had made a mistake. They’d gotten too close to the enemy and now the second Haemin ship was flanking them on their starboard, leaving only the Indeok to fend off the new arrival, the Paragon.

A chilling screech of splintered wood interrupted the cheering and everyone who wasn’t hanging onto a cannon stumbled back from the collision of the Crow with the ship to their starboard.

Hongjoong picked himself up just as Lieutenant Park came running down to meet him, blood trickling down his face, and informed him he was being reassigned.

They would have to board.

Hongjoong followed the lieutenant topside and most of the gunners followed behind him. They trusted him now, whatever doubts they may have had before.

But instead of doing as he was told and crossing directly to the Haemin ship, where fighting had already broken out, he marched up to the Admiral and demanded a weapon.

“Will you give me nothing to arm myself?” 

Kim laughed at him outright but motioned the surgeon to hand the prisoner something.

A single, meagre blade.

Hongjoong knew in that moment exactly what the Admiral desired.

He wanted him to go and die, and take as many Haemin soldiers with him as he could.

If he survived it was on to the next battle, and then the next and the next after that until the world was the Admiral’s and Hongjoong was no longer useful, nothing more than a threat.

Seeing as he couldn’t strike Kim then and there, Hongjoong snatched the flimsy thing and turned to join the battle.

“Nothing too flashy, understand?” Admiral Kim called after him, a hint of teasing in his voice.

They couldn’t risk a realisation that the Pirate King was among them.

Time seemed suspended while he swung across on the rigging and prepared for the plunge.

Hongjoong was not afraid of death. No, he had survived insurmountable odds before and trusted his own skill. If it was him and an enemy in a battlefield somewhere he could be sure of the outcome, but the Admiral’s plans were a different matter.

Barely armed and with bare feet and tattered clothes, he shook off his worries and got to work.

The Paragon and the Indeok were firing back and forth a little ways away and the sinking Haemin ship would be of no help, so it was just the Crow and the enemies they mowed down right and left.

Haemin’s soldiers were nowhere near as trained as Jaecho’s, that was for sure.

Blood spurted and shrapnel flew through the air, but Hongjoong was numb to it, dissociating from himself almost completely and letting his body remember how to fight. All of the lieutenants had joined, unwilling to simply leave the outcome up to the midshipmen and average sailors, and it felt nice to have someone he knew watching his back.

Hongjoong had been on his feet too long already, exhausted and with nothing left to give. The sword was difficult, instead of the nice clean cut he was used to, he had to hack his way through opponents. It was dirtier, bloodier, and even more degrading.

Anyone who came within an arm’s length of him was dispatched quickly after.

“Grenade!”

The sudden yell from Midshipman Moon’s direction came seconds before a hand grenade hit the deck. Instinctively, Hongjoong grabbed it and tossed it into the sea before it could explode, wincing at the blistering burns it left on his hands.

A flash of light signalled more shells raining down on them from the rigging, and the soldiers did their best to kick them away but now they were fighting on two fronts, and the cast iron grenades blew apart into tiny metal shards before they could stop them.

An enemy managed to slice Hongjoong across the face while he was distracted, but retribution was swift and he could only take a single step back before being stabbed.

Hongjoong shut his ears to the crunching of bone as he shoved his blade in between the man’s ribs.

He needed to get aloft to take out those grenadiers.

Struggling with his newly singed hands, Hongjoong scaled the rigging and dodged the musket shots that went whizzing past his face.

“What I wouldn’t give to have a gun right now...” he muttered. 

Alerted to his presence, the grenadiers moved even higher, and Hongjoong had to pause to regain his breath before reaching them. 

As he looked around, he realised the wind had blown in a snow cloud. Flurries and gunpowder alike drifted through the air and the warning groan that echoed through the ship told him it wasn’t built to handle the cold.

Shivering, he pressed on until he reached the cowards.

They had cornered themselves on the end of the mainmast while they reloaded their guns, and Hongjoong was on them before they even had a chance to fire.

He didn’t revel in ending their lives, but he finished the job and then smeared the blood across his face accidentally when he went to wipe away the powder.

It stung, but not as badly as the cold.

Below, the Haemin forces were surrendering, but Hongjoong didn’t want to go back down, as freezing as it was in the sails.

A snowflake gently floated into his raw, bloody hand and soothed him as it melted.

For a moment he wasn’t anyone, just a barefoot, white-haired mystery painted scarlet and sitting high in the ropes while ships were sinking around him.

...

San had no time to grieve. The tears were still wet on his face when the officers ordered them to the gun decks.

Thoughts of the last time he had seen Hongjoong— in the middle of the night at the inn while bullets burst through the window— cycled in his head while he rushed gunpowder back and forth.

It didn’t matter how loud the gunfire was, his heart was only silence and emptiness. If only he hadn’t left them, if only he had disobeyed Hongjoong’s orders.

Maybe they would _all_ have survived.

A hand was placed on his to steady his load when he was pulled too far into his distracting thoughts.

“Jongho...?” San gasped, looking over at the translator and protesting, “No, he can’t fight, he’s still injured—”

“We can’t spare any hands,” the translator insisted, nudging Jongho over to the cannons. “He can stay with you.”

San had no fire left in him to argue. The news Jongho delivered had sucked it all out of him.

And just in time for a battle, from the looks of it.

If San had to be present, he wished he could go back to performing emergency surgeries, but he supposed his incident on deck earlier had banned him from that.

Jongho hadn’t spoken a word since explaining what had happened in San’s absence, and he remained quiet while he helped load the cannons and peered through the gunport.

He didn’t understand what the officers were yelling, but he could see the ships ahead of them and he recognised at least one.

“San, that’s the Black Crow.”

San’s head shot up and he crowded next to Jongho to see for himself.

Again, Jongho placed a steadying hand on his companion’s arm, just in case he dove off the ship and swam over just to make the Admiral pay.

Jongho had half a mind to do so himself.

“There’s no way we’ll survive this,” San whispered instead. And he was right, three small Haemin ships against the Black Crow, especially with an escort ship alongside her, stood no chance. Already one of the Haemin ships was sinking, and the other was being boarded from the looks of things.

The Paragon moved to cut off the smaller escort ship— the name Indeok was written on her— and abandoned their allies, dooming them to deal with the Crow.

The Indeok was ready, and before San and Jongho could get a shot off, cannon fire blasted through the deck.

It was such a powerful blow, the cannons around them reeled back in their gunports with the listing of the ship, and all the war prisoners had to avoid debris.

To protect Jongho from worsening his wounds, San pulled him into his arms and sheltered underneath the cannon until an officer dragged them back out and screamed something while holding out a bucket.

“He wants us to bail,” San explained, and he took the bucket reluctantly, shuffling forward to scoop out the water that was already bursting in.

The officer grabbed Jongho by the collar when he tried to follow and pointed at the cannons. He was to continue firing.

Angry at being separated, Jongho shoved the man off and quickly loaded the cannon completely by himself, lighting the fuse and firing it at the Indeok. The sooner he finished the job, the sooner he could reunite with San.

To his surprise, it was a palpable hit. Invigorated, he loaded again and fired just as quickly, paying more attention where he aimed it this time.

A second hit, this one better than the first by the image of the hole being ripped in the side of the navy ship.

Jongho began rallying the gunners. He may not care for Haemin’s hit and run tactics but he had no love for the navy, and he’d bring that ship down if it was in his way.

As the final, most devastating shot ripped the gun deck in half and just as a smile returned to Jongho’s face, he spotted a familiar head of lavender hair.

Wooyoung was picking himself up from the wreckage, stumbling to his feet and trying to climb to safety before the deck was submerged.

Someone was yelling on the Indeok’s quarterdeck, rushing down to help the gunners even as bullets rained down and Jongho was shattered to see that it was Yeosang.

There was only one reason they’d be on a navy ship, escorting the Black Crow of all vessels.

They were prisoners too.

Jongho covered his mouth to prevent himself from emptying his stomach. Guilt swirled around inside him, that he could have killed them if they had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But at least there was someone on this watery battlefield who didn’t hate him and San.

The Haemin sailors were cheering Jongho on, and robustly loaded and aimed their cannons again. A shot hit the mainmast and Jongho watched it fall, horrified. The next hit the quarterdeck and exploded just below the helm, decimating the entire level.

No one who stood there could have survived that.

Not the captain, not the lieutenants, not his friends.

“Stop! Stop it, please!” He screamed, trying to pull away their gunpowder bags while they celebrated and patted him on the back.

They thought he was encouraging them, and they loaded another cannon.

The Indeok sank before his very eyes.

...

There wasn’t much Yeosang could do to help except to pick off the occasional main deck gunner on the Paragon.

The Crow seemed to be doing fine against the other two Haemin ships, already one was nearly sunk and the sounds of fighting sounded from the second.

Yeosang’s cheeks flamed as he looked over and met eyes with his father.

The man had seen his son’s successful shots and was looking at him with such a genuine smile, his eyes so proud and pure it was sickening.

Yeosang turned away and focused on covering Lieutenant Yoo’s back.

He was lulled into optimism, sure they would take an unquestioned victory, just when several massive explosions rang out in succession.

The gun decks were ripped through with cannon fire, and Yeosang didn’t care if the Admiral himself punished him, he could not stay on the quarterdeck while Wooyoung was in danger.

There was a cloud of powder released by the shot, and the young navigator stumbled through it and down the steep incline where the shells had broken through the deck.

Body parts and weapons were strewn along the collapsing surface but Yeosang averted his eyes.

With their last breaths, some of the wounded screamed for his help but he was only looking for one gunner. He didn’t have time to stop to save anyone else.

He must have yelled his name because Wooyoung stood up and extended a hand through snow and powder, so Yeosang reached for it.

With their fingers inches apart, another blast shook the Indeok and suddenly a mast was falling between them. Yeosang halted just before being crushed and still the momentum knocked him to the ground.

Disoriented and with his ears ringing at the proximity of the explosion, he tried to get up and find Wooyoung, hoping against hope that he wasn’t trapped down in the sinking lower decks.

Before he could even stand, the loudest boom yet came in a brilliant firework display from behind and completely destroyed the quarterdeck.

Yeosang watched the captain himself sail over the railing, wounded almost beyond recognition and scanned the deck anxiously for Lieutenant Yoo... or the remains of him. Whichever he found first.

Someone was groaning intelligibly, a lieutenant with his leg stuck in between the wooden boards of the stairs that led to the quarterdeck. He was hurt but alive, and as Yeosang approached him, he recognised the man.

It was Woosung, Wooyoung’s brother and although he was weeping painfully, he looked like he would recover.

Yeosang helped him get his leg out of the splinters and supported his weight as they moved to see what was left of the officers.

No one had survived.

Even First Lieutenant Yoo Dojoon lay choking on his own blood with shrapnel embedded in his midsection. He raised a hand and when Yeosang took it, it was frozen with the mingled chill of winter and death. 

“T-Take them down,” he grunted, not a tear on his face. He was resolute even in his last moments.

Woosung looked to see why their enemy had stopped firing. “The Paragon is retreating,” he told them, voice brittle and confused. “But the Indeok will not survive.”

Yoo closed his eyes in disappointment for a moment. When he opened them, it was like he could see past Yeosang and Woosung, past their entire plane of existence.

“We did our duty.”

The light faded from his eyes and Yeosang closed them with a shaking hand.

It was still for a moment, only the dying cries of men and the wind-blown snow swirling around them as the Indeok gave its final farewell moan and started to disappear below the waves, bow first.

“Where is my brother?” Woosung’s voice trembled and he tried to get to his feet but fell back on the uneven ground. Yeosang could see the white of bone protruding from his leg and grimaced.

“He... he was...” Then letting go of the lieutenant, he stumbled forward to peer into the abyss. “Wooyoung!”

There was no answer.

“Make for Kibo!” He turned and yelled back to Woosung, rushing to lower a longboat and helping him into it. “I’ll find Wooyoung.”

So he peered in every crevice and checked every face, knowing the water was cold and the longer he spent looking, the faster Wooyoung’s minutes ticked away.

Soon there wasn’t much of the Indeok left for him to search and his heart had nearly been crushed with the pressure, but suddenly something in the water caught his eye.

A portion of the mainmast, with a familiar head of hair propped up on it. Wooyoung was there, fighting his wounds and floating towards land.

“Wait!” Yeosang yelled, and he ran to what was left of the rail, scaling it and diving in a perfect arc into the uneasy waves.

“Wooyoung!” He gasped between strokes until his hands made contact with the wooden plank. “It’s me!”

Bleary eyes opened and latched on to him. “Yeosang, I was worried,” he shivered and scooted off to the side, leaving space for Yeosang to share. “Is Woosung—?”

“He’ll be alright, he’s on his way to land,” Yeosang explained through coughs, motioning in the direction of Kibo. It wasn’t far, they could make it if he started propelling them in the right direction.

Wooyoung allowed his head to lower and took in a wheezing inhale. He was injured somewhere and Yeosang didn’t have time to figure it out yet. “I’ll get you to safety,” he promised.

And he promised too soon, because moments later, the Black Crow blocked their path.

...

“You’re doing so well, Mingi, just hang in there,” Seonghwa soothed his protesting patient, wiping away as much blood as he could from his wounded eye.

“M-My head,” he whined in a breaking voice. “It hurts... please, it h-hurts...”

Seonghwa bit his lip and tried to ignore his cries until the eyepatch was secured and he could blow out the candle, casting the room in darkness.

“Is that better?”

“Mhm,” Mingi hummed tiredly, before taking in a hitched breath and letting his other eye drift shut. “Better.”

Seonghwa sat back to give him space, but wouldn’t let go of his hand.

Had the bullet been just centimetres to the right, Mingi would already be gone. Even with him lying there now, sloppily bandaged up and practically drunk on pain relief tonic, Seonghwa had no contingency plan. 

They needed to get him to a real doctor.

Seonghwa glanced over to where Yunho sat, long legs pulled up into the chair making him look smaller and more vulnerable.

He rested his cheek on his knees to dab away tears and stared at Mingi like looking away would kill him.

Seonghwa hated how familiar this was. Waiting around uselessly in the infirmary, waiting to see if death would take someone they loved.

Hesitantly releasing Mingi’s hand and pressing the blanket into it, he crossed to Yunho and wiped away a tear with the cuff of his sleeve.

“Sorry,” Yunho sniffled, turning away, but Seonghwa caught his face before he could and cradled it until he met his eyes.

“It’s alright. We’re only human.”

Yunho’s eyes watered more and he dropped his head in surrender, letting Seonghwa hold him for awhile.

“Maddox recommends we retreat for awhile and go after Jongho later. I’m still not happy about it,” Yunho admitted when Seonghwa pulled away to let him talk. Seonghwa knew this, but if Yunho wanted to say something about it again, that was fine. Clearly it was weighing on his mind.

“Let him take care of things for awhile,” Seonghwa sighed, reaching over to grab an extra blanket and then throwing it over the pair of them. “I think we deserve a little break.”

It was indeed a break, but it didn’t turn out to be very restful.

Mingi adjusted well to the eyepatch and his headaches wore off gradually, but the officers spent the week it took them to reach Freeport worrying about his vision. They had done their best to clean the wound daily but still Mingi couldn’t see out of his left eye.

Seonghwa remembered this port from the last time they’d been. They were a group of eight then, spending their well earned salaries in the pub and restocking in the market. Of course, the contemptible mutineer Seunghyun had joined them then as well, but Seonghwa didn’t see any more of his type loitering around.

He _did_ notice some significant changes however, in the general liveliness of the townspeople and the shiny new artillery in the garrisons. Seonghwa didn’t even remember there being garrisons last time.

“Who do the batteries belong to?” He asked Maddox as they sailed past. 

“You,” Maddox shrugged before taking a sip of his tea and continuing. “Me. Anyone on this ship. Anyone who wants to keep the free islands free.”

“That sounds like... an alliance,” Seonghwa scoffed in disbelief. “An alliance between pirates?”

“I take it you haven’t been to Geobugi in awhile. It’s not unheard of, especially in wartime,” the older pirate went on to explain as the island faded from view and they reclaimed their seats at the breakfast table on the quarterdeck. “Do you know the history of these lands?”

Mingi accidentally smacked himself in the face with his spoon before adjusting his trajectory and getting it into his mouth. Half-vision had its challenges. “No, not really,” he admitted.

“Well, pirates were once unified, a long time ago. It was pirates who first discovered the East, at least to our knowledge,” Maddox began. “There are ancient ruins on some of the islands, but we’ve never found any inhabitants, assuming they either died out or moved on. Places like Freeport and Geobugi became pirate refuges, especially after the defeat of Captain Seongho of the Hammerhead, when his secret caves on Dalhae were discovered. Eden repurposed those tunnels and dug even deeper, but only as a last resort. We wanted to be free. The Navy’s quest to eliminate us only intensified from then on, and they claimed the island they later imprisoned me on, founded the colonies, and even attacked Geobugi. We drove them away but I was injured in the battle and wished to return to the mainland to be reunited with my family. That was the last time I’ve been there.”

His eyes became cloudy and distant and he poked at his food while he went on.

“That year was the same that Eden met Hongjoong. And so, of course, I’m sure you know what followed. You’ll find that since your treasure hunt, _you’ve_ been included in the pirate legacy.”

The three officers sat in silence.

“This has all been going on since we left?” Yunho finally asked, pushing back his plate. He wasn’t sure how to feel about this supposed truce.

Maddox nodded. “And you’ll be quite surprised to discover that not only is the ATEEZ well known there, but each of you in particular.”

Mingi blushed and glanced around. “Well, I can’t say it wouldn’t be nice to be appreciated but... can we really trust them to help us? Will they honestly want to save Jongho if it means attacking Haemin?”

“If you have a chance anywhere, it’s here,” Maddox insisted. “Now, get some rest. I’ll call you when we arrive.”

So the vessel moved against the movement of the sun, until a familiar harbour was on the horizon.

Maddox took them through the Bem canal which led directly into the heart of the island, and then summoned the officers so they could see for themselves.

Large wooden platforms had been built all along the waterway, with bright lanterns tinted in amber and cyan decorating them and lines strewn back and forth to deliver messages. Flags that indicated residents’ crew affiliations hung near the door posts, and the streams that branched away eventually became roads. There was space at the mouth for ships to be anchored, and the ATEEZ became the next of many while the four of them disembarked.

Crossing a network of bridges clearly made from spare planks and netting to reach what appeared to be the central building, Seonghwa couldn’t help but laugh at all the people flinging open their windows and waving at them, some even cheering.

It was like they were heroes.

“This way,” Maddox’s voice grounded them in reality and they followed into the main building, hands on their swords just in case.

Seonghwa couldn’t help but notice that it almost seemed to be an imitation of the palace, from the material of the tiles to the shape of the trees. There was a vague resemblance that struck him as ironic, and when he entered, he half expected to see a throne.

Someone was there, sitting at a table. Someone very familiar, but whose face he couldn’t quite put his finger on...

Yunho dropped everything and ran towards him.

“Gunho!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah this one was a lot more intense than usual, and I'm sure you've got a lot to say soooo go ahead and say it, leave me a comment :,) Tbh I'm not 100% confident with this chapter but I don't hate it and it was due for an update so I tried lol. If you have any questions about the more technical aspects or are struggling to picture what's going on, let me know and I'll try to clear it up for you! ttfn, hope you enjoyed~

**Author's Note:**

> Probably a record time for me to start a new volume! Thanks so much for sticking with Treasure thus far and buckle your seatbelts for All to Action because it’s gonna be a wild ride. Don’t forget to comment and hmu on twt @tiny_tokki and have a good day :D


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